Scion 2e - Short stories


The following is the aftermath of something that happened in-game. It details the problems that supernatural events cause from the viewpoint of mortals. There might be more stories later. They will in that case not be made in chronological order.

Edit for clarification: My character is mentioned in the story, but never seen by the characters in this story.


”You have reached the An Garda Síochána-station in Wexford, How may I help you?” Sergeant Graham answered as he picked up the phone. He took a quick sip of his coffee while he looked for a pen and a piece of paper. Much quicker than the clunky computer system they were supposed to be using for everything. He would enter things in it if it really was something, or better yet getting Riley to do it. They had already gotten quite a few reports of damages from the violent and totally unexpected storm last night. The insurance companies would be busy sorting out all the claims, but it was not really anything for the Garda.

“I would like to report there has been some kind of accident or something. Three cars, that are totally demolished, and I see dead people lying on the ground.“

“Excuse me, but is this some kind of sick joke?”

“It's no bloody joke. The bodies are torn apart, I see five of them. One of the cars are ripped open like a bomb went off or something, one is turned on the side, and also ripped open, and another has crashed into a tree.”

Sergeant Graham almost dropped his cup of coffee. They didn´t have bombings in Wexford county. That was stuff that only happened in Northern Ireland in the days of old, when the IRA was active. The man on the other end of the line didn´t sound like he was drunk though, which was always a possibility – especially given the area, Graham thought.

“Very well, sir, what's your name, and where are you, and what number are you calling from?” Sergeant Graham quickly started writing.

“Keith Monahan. I am on the N30. About a mile North-East of Enniscorthy. Near the old bridge over the Slaney. My number is 084-5523-77896”

Sergeant Graham looked at the map hanging on the wall. He quickly found the right place. There was nothing there but farmland. It was however in the area that was controlled by ruthless gang of criminals, but even they would normally stay clear of such violence. Mere threats were usually enough, or a severe beating. The gang had been suspected of much worse things, but it had not been proven.

“Mr Monahan, do you know if anyone is hurt?” He tried calculating how quickly they could get any ambulances down there, but he needed to know how many to send.

“I haven't found anyone alive. Not feeling so good.” It was clear to Graham that the man was starting to lose it.

“Thank you, sir. You did good. Can you please stay on site until we arrive?”

“I don't feel comfortable doing that. The place gives me the creeps.”

“I am sorry, but it is very important that you stay at the scene. We need to make a formal witness report once we get there.”
It was unfortunate that this would cause Mr Monahan any discomfort, but they needed to make sure he was not under the influence, and they needed his footprints, so they could investigate how he had moved around the scene. If nothing else so to exclude him from any suspects.

“Yes sir, I understand”

“Good, we will be there shortly.”
Sergeant Graham hang up the phone, and quickly gulped down his coffee. It might be the last coffee he might get for quite a few hours if this was real. He took the paper and gathered his stuff. Dammit, he hated being short staffed. Why did Muireann have to be sick today, and Declan being on vacation?

“Riley, come here. You take the phone, I got to check out a call. Might be a while, so you'll have to stick around until next shift comes in.“ he called out to his colleague in the other room. Graham had seniority, and normally he would've told Riley to go investigate the call, but if it was real it was important to get things right, and he didn't trust the other officer enough to do that solo.

“Sure thing, Sarge. Where are you going?”

“North of Enniscorthy. Possible bombed cars and a couple of dead bodies. Hopefully it is a false alarm, otherwise I'll be stuck out there for hours.”

“Oh. You sure, you don't want me to join you?”

“Someone has to stay here and take any other calls. And right now, that's you.”

Sergeant Graham got into the car and started driving along the winding narrow roads. On the way, he could see a number of trees that had fallen down, partially blocking roads. Farmers had in many cases already pulled the trees aside with their tractors, leaving nothing but debris and drag marks behind. The drive took quite a bit longer than he had expected, but he finally reached the place. The wrecked cars supported the initial report, and he saw what looked like body parts lying around. If someone had sustained such injures as to rip an arm off, or cutting someone in half, then there was no way they could have survived. He would of course check everything, but he needed some answers first to establish what had happened.

“Are you Mr Monahan?” he asked the fat man that stepped out of a parked car, a bit away from the wrecks. He could tell that the man was not feeling too well.

“Yes, sir. Took you long enough to get here.”

“Sorry about that, but the storm last night has left its marks. Now, could you tell me what happened here?”
He said as he took out his notebook and started to write.

“I was driving along the road on my way to X, and then saw the wrecked cars. I stopped, and checked if someone was hurt, and then called you.”

“You did not see any other cars, or anyone moving around here.”

The man shook his head.

“Ok, I'll take that as a no then. Did you notice anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Just a few more things. Do you recall where you walked?”
He did not expect that the man would have remembered, but it might help the investigation.

“I first checked that car” Monahan said, and pointed to the most destroyed one of the wrecks. “Then I ran over to the car that was turned over, and last to the one that had crashed into the tree. Think I ran in a straight line, more or less there”

“Good. I will just need to take a photo of the soles of your shoes and give you a breathalyser-test. You are not a suspect, but I need to do this for documentation. It's to rule you out as a suspect. You are the first on a possible crime-scene.”

“Oh. I see. Anything I can do to help.”

Graham quickly administered the breathalyser test, and then took photos of the soles of the man’s shoes. Ideally, he should also take a DNA-swab, or at least fingerprints, but he did not have the proper tools with him to do that in the field. The breathalyser-test showed that the man had been drinking, but that he was under the limit. With that he let Mr Monahan go, as he now had all relevant information, after having verified all contact information to Mr Monahan.

Sergeant Graham, then proceeded to walk up the first vehicle, and verified that the remains were real, and not something staged with the help of dolls. He recognized one of the dead bodies as belonging to a member of the gang that controlled the area. A bit further away he found a gun and spent shell-casings. This was going to be a long day.

His next step was to call it in and request a specialist unit to handle the forensics, and then started to establish the perimeter of the scene and mark it with white and blue police tape. While he was doing that, he came across a lot more bodies, all torn apart. Some he knew by name, having arrested them earlier, and others from photos from various investigations. A lot more guns and spent shells lay scattered here and there. All over the place were large paw-prints of what he first thought to be really large dogs, like a pack of Irish wolfhounds, and then realized that those prints were not from dogs, but from wolves. Wolves, the size of men. Ireland hadn't seen wolves for over 200 years. What exactly was going on?

Then he came upon something that really scared him, there was a massive grotesque body, of what sort of looked like a man, but being between seven and eight feet tall, and with an unnatural greenish kind of black coloration, and horns. More muscles than a bodybuilder on steroids. It resembled the brutal leader of the local gang, but it was twisted into something that was obviously not human. The torso was full of bitemarks from something that had been even bigger, and large chunks of flesh had been torn out. Besides the body in the mud, he saw gigantic partially frozen pawprints of a wolf that had to have been at least ten feet tall, and from what he could see there had been some kind of fight between the man-being and the impossibly large wolf. Deep down he knew that this was not a fake, and that the body really was that of the gang's leader. It would have to be investigated though. He took a photo of each thing he found. The forensic team would make a more detailed search when they came, but it was preliminary evidence.

Sergeant Graham could not keep himself from cursing his fate. This was even worse than he had expected. This was supernatural stuff. He was so out of his league it was laughable, and he was required to request for the presence of the supernatural division as well. It was going to be a really long day indeed. The sooner he could leave the scene the better. He could well understand Mr Monahan’s fear of the place.

It took two and a half hours before the specialist team arrived. It felt like an eternity as far as Graham was concerned. He was a bit surprised that it was a team from Dublin that came, but he guessed the nature of the event warranted it.

“Hello. Are you the one who called us out here?” a greying man in his late fifties asked as he approached from one of the vans. He was obviously the leader of the team. His badge identified him as Inspector Keane.

“Yes, Inspector. I am sergeant Graham. Glad you could come.” Graham answered as he saw the man's rank on his uniform.

The man nodded as he looked around.

“That is a big area you have marked off. Looks like we will have our work cut out for us then. So, what can you tell us of the situation? I understood it was multiple bodies, and possible supernatural involvement, is that right?”

The man was joined by two men in their forties and a woman that looked like she was in her early thirties. Graham was struck by her flaming red hair, that didn't quite look natural.

“Yes, sir. I counted at least twelve bodies. I recognized some of them. Tough guys, with a mean streak. They would not have gone down without a fight.”

“Oh, ex-military?”

Graham shook his head. “No. Criminals belonging to a gang. Involved in thefts, smuggling, drugs, assault, and who knows what else. Suspected involvement in a few missing persons cases and at least two deaths. Couldn't be proven one way or the other. ”

“I see. And what about the possible supernatural link?”

“One of the bodies is definitively not human. All the bodies have been savaged by something monstrous. I took photos as I put up the perimeter.”

The woman nodded slightly. Seemed it was something she took an interest in. The others didn't seem to react at all to what he had just said. They were more interested in the number of bodies.

“Well. Let's get started then. Peter, can you get us a view from above with the drone, so we see the scale of the area and can map out where everything is? Harris, you and I will start putting up the tent. Another question, of importance though; has anyone else entered the area?”

“Yes, a local farmer. He was the one that called it in, and he has given a full statement. I have taken photos of his shoes, and got a rough description of which parts he had been in. I followed it somewhat to verify that it was a real case and not a hoax. I will show you were I walked.”

“Good. We will mark that on the aerial photo. Sergeant Connors, you investigate the supernatural angle. Now let's start.”

All three of the others nodded in affirmation to their orders. The men started unpacking things from the cars. Leaving the young woman with Graham.

“Hi, I'm Moira. I'm at the Supernatural threat division. I would very much like to see those photos, to see what we are dealing with.”

“Of course. I must warn you that they are quite gruesome.”

“I think I can handle it. I have seen other supernatural attacks before. Thank you for the warning though.”

“Of course. I am Neil, by the way.”

Sergeant Graham took out his pone, and showed the photos to Moira, letting her zoom in as much as she wanted.

“Damn, you weren't kidding. Yes, definitively supernatural involvement. How large is this body, and do you know who it is?” she said and indicated the non-human body.

“It kind of looks like Darragh Maher. He's the leader of the gang, but he's human. This body is between seven and eight feet tall, and much bigger than he is, even if he is a big guy.”

“Well, THAT is an ogre. They can appear human though magic. They only bother with that if they want to blend in, and not attract attention. They are nasty, intelligent brutes. Very dangerous. I think we must check on the whereabouts of Mr Maher. Whatever took him down was bigger and more ferocious. Not many things would go up against an ogre and win.”

“Yeah, Darragh is a brute, so the description fits. These pawprints are of wolves as far as I can tell. The smaller ones are from wolves that I guess would be five to six feet tall. The larger ones, that you see on this photo would be from something maybe ten feet tall. No wolves I ever heard of grew that big. Not to mention we haven't had wolves here for over two hundred years. So, what could have done it?”

“Werewolves is one possibility. They would certainly have the ability to fight an ogre, but they would need to work as a pack. There are other possibilities of course. None of them pleasant.”

Graham winced slightly. He didn't like what she implied.

“Such as?”

“Well, could be some giant wolves, that either broke through the veil to our world or were summoned here deliberately. Don't know which is scarier. It could be the Wild hunt, or some monsters out of legend like Fenris, or the hounds of Hell, or something that I haven't even heard of. There are lots of things out there that only the Gods know about.”

“Oh. How do we find out which? And is there a risk that we will see more attacks?”

“More attacks, maybe. Depends on what it was and why they attacked. Was it random or were the victims targeted? If it was monsters that broke through the veil by chance, then yes for sure if they are still around. They will probably attack anyone or anything that crosses their path if they feel it threatens their territory, and they will need to hunt for food.”

Moira paused slightly and looked more closely at the photos of the suspected wolf tracks, before going back to the photos of the bodies, especially the ogre. Something was clearly bothering her.

“You said you recognised some of the victims as hardcore criminals. That means we could have another gang trying to get rid of the competition, or someone decided to punish them for something. Your guess is as good as mine there. Would depend on who was responsible and if they felt it was enough.”

Sergeant Graham looked up and watched the progress of the other investigators. Harris and Keane were putting up some kind of tent that almost looked like a party tent. The other man was carefully controlling a small drone that soared over the area. It was almost silent. Graham had expected it to sound much more and hadn't even noticed when it started. He was not entirely comfortable with all the new technology that the department had access to. Mostly because he didn't understand it.

Once the preliminary survey was done, sergeant Graham had to mark on the aerial image of where both he and Mr Monahan had been, and his photos were cross-referenced to locations on the map, as best as they could manage. Moira brought the others up to speed of what she suspected based on the photos.

“Sergeants Connor and Graham, I would like for you to check on the whereabouts of this Mr Maher, as well as inquire in the area if anyone has seen or heard anything, We will continue here, and will need to have officers guarding the site later on, so no one disturbs it. It is likely we will be here for the next few days.”

“Yes, sir. Anything else?” Moira replied.

“Not at the moment. Sergeant Graham, where would the nearest hotel be? ”

“That would be the old Cavanagh house, in Enniscorthy, as far as I know. They are quite ok, but their breakfasts aren't proper Irish. If you want a healthy dose of grease go to the pub next doors. It is called The Silver Banshee. They often have live music in the evenings there.”

“Thank you. We will take that under consideration.”

“Well, we should be leaving then, sir. I will call in for some officers coming out here that can guard the crime scene.”

After some call to make all the arrangements and getting a description of the route to the Maher residence, they set off leaving the forensic team behind. The narrow, windy road to the large manor near Bunclody that made up the Maher residence, went through the thick forest. The track of the storm could clearly be seen, with branches lying on the road and fallen trees here and there. Graham was certainly no expert, but it seemed that it had went the opposite way than earlier.

As they came out to the Maher residence, they were met with silence and no sign of anyone moving. As they looked around, they saw a scene that was eerily reminiscent of the previous one. It was clear that they had a secondary crime scene. They found more bodies torn asunder, and with weapons of varying kind lay about. Although most bodies were not as big as the one that Moira had claimed were an ogre, they were certainly the same species. Graham wasn't sure, but they seemed to have a clear family resemblance. He knew that Maher's family were also involved in his criminal activity. Did that mean that they too had been ogres? They also found more of the gigantic wolf tracks around.

“Damn. I think we can rule out that the victims of the first scene were at the wrong place at the wrong time. Someone targeted the gang.”

“I would agree. Do they have more members? And do you know anyone who would do it?”

“I think most of the members have been accounted for. Hard to tell though. As fro who would dare doing it, no idea. These guys ruled with an iron fist, and other criminals stayed out of their way.”

“I see. Well, I guess I need to call Inspector Keane. His call whether if he wants a secondary team here or not.”

Moira took up her phone and dialled the number.

“Inspector, we have a secondary scene here at the Maher residence. Looks the same as the first one. Probably same group of perpetrators. Again, multiple bodies. More supernatural involvement, on both sides.”

“Oh. Send me the address. I will see if I can get a secondary team down there. You need to get officers out there that can preserve the scene, and then continue the investigation. Someone must know something.”

“Yes sir. We understand.”

The practical details took some time to arrange, but finally as Graham and Moira handed over the scene, they could continue with the investigation, and try to find witnesses.

After a while their inquiries bore fruit. A man had been picked up earlier for being drunk in public and disturbing the peace. He had been babbling incoherently to the officers that picked him up, that he needed protection. At the moment he was at the station in Bunclody so he could sleep off the effects of the alcohol. He was awakened and led into a room where they could interview him.

“Good day, sir. I understand you had seen something last night?” Graham asked the man, who looked up with bloodshot eyes.

“I didn't see much, but what I saw was enough. When the Wild hunt is out, you hide, and pray it doesn't find you. You pray really hard, let me tell you. I stayed put until the storm died down, before I dared move again and try getting home. That was when I met a couple that came walking down the road. Both of them were covered in blood. I have never seen two people being so horny, and eager to naughty word their brains out though. Especially the girl, she was all over the guy. And then they noticed me.”

The man was drunk, as drunk could be. The look on his face told them that he was truly afraid of something though, and he feared even talking about it. Was it something real, or just hallucinations from the alcohol?

“Look. I have never been so afraid in my life. That girl, who was a tiny little thing, five feet five tops, she looked at me like a predator looks at their prey, and I knew she judged whether or not I was worthy. I froze like a deer in a headlight. If it hadn't been for the guy with her, I think she would have killed me right there and then. Luckily her horniness won over the desire to kill me, so I could get away.“

“Would you recognise them?”

“The girl, yeah. Long blonde, almost white hair, and eyes that glowed the colour of emeralds. Gorgeous, looked fierce. A bit wolfish. She was not human. The guy was bigger. Lean and muscular like a boxer or something.”

“That is some story you tell.”
Graham said.

“It's all true though. I swear it is.”

“We believe you.” Moira chimed in.

“You have to make sure she cannot get to me. Promise me.”

“No one is going to get to you here.”

“Thank the gods. Now I need to sleep again. Not feeling so well.”

It was clear that the man would not say any more, but his testimony did match their previous suspicions. As the man was led back to the drunk cell, Graham and Moira stayed, and made sure they got new coffee. It had already been a long day.

“So, where do go we go from here?”

“I need to ask around among the supernatural population here. I think I have to do that alone though.”
Moira answered as she drank her coffee.

“And how do you propose to do that? Hell, I didn't know we had any supernatural things down here.”

“I am not talking about members of the general public. I mean the Fair folk, and they are all around if you know where to look.”

“Didn't realise you were a scion.”

“I'm not. But my great-great-grandmother was a daughter of Morrigan, and she participated in the struggle for Irish independence. So, I have inherited a few talents.”

“I see. Well, tell me where you need to go, and I can get you there.”

“Not much you can do. I will have to go out in the woods, and the ones I need to talk to might not come if you are around. No offence. If you can continue looking for mundane clues, it would good. I will call you later.”

A week later Graham got a call from Moira.

“Hi Neil, how is it going? I finally tracked down some good leads for our case. After talking to a couple of contacts amongst the Fair folk, I learned that the Wild hunt, just got a new leader. A scion claimed the title Lady of the Wild hunt. I don't know if there ever has been a woman leading the hunt before. This was a test for her to prove herself worthy. I have a feeling that the girl that our drunk witness met might have been the new leader. She was at least involved in the hunt as far as I can verify. I have an idea of who she is, but I cannot prove it.“

“Oh, that's great news. So, who is she?”

“Well, it is only a guess, and it is complicated. I assume you've heard of the band of Scions that media sometimes refers to as The Seven?”

“The name rings a bell, but I cannot remember why exactly. Right, they were the ones in Delphi, when a large group of the Indian pantheon showed up and were caught on camera. Damn, that is high profile.”

“Yes, and they were involved in dealing with the dragons. Anyway, they just visited Ireland. They were at a small village north of Dublin, and did something that involved the Fair folk, and some old battle, from way back. One of the girls, went missing for two days under mysterious circumstances, right about the time for our case. When she came back to the hotel she was accompanied by a young man. Both were covered in blood. I actually found a police report about it. She does match the description to a large degree; long white hair and really green eyes, and yes, she is rather petite. I did some searching, and the name that seem to be most common in writing about her is Ekaterina Mishkin. The last name varies. She is often referred to as Katya. She is a world-famous ballerina, and apparently a skilled huntress. According to the report, the staff and guests that saw them were quite spooked. They said there was something predatory about them, and it was like they couldn't wait to have sex. From the reports I heard, the staff had wanted to give them noise-complaints during the night but were too scared to do so. She had apparently been rather enthusiastic in bed. Two days, they were at it nonstop, then she just walks down to the restaurant and gets breakfast as if nothing had happened. They guy needed medical attention for exhaustion and had plenty of bitemarks and scratches on him. He was a bit delirious, when the ambulance came.“

“So, when do we bring her in for questioning?”

“Not sure that can happen. She, and her friends has left the country. She has possible dual citizenship; Russian and American. Neither country is very keen on helping police in other countries. The exact details are a bit murky, but what I can be sure of is that she is has at least American citizenship, after having left Russia as a teenager. We think that she is one of the Aesir, so that causes other diplomatic challenges.”

“That's a problem, yes. Look, I have gotten pressure from the brass here to close the investigation. Maybe just as well. How do we write it off? The one good thing about it is that the local troublemakers and criminal elements that were not part of the Maher-gang are lying low. Almost like they got really scared, and do not want to be the next targets. Not that I blame them. Just hope they stay away for a long time.”

“Not sure. I think we should just rule it as caused by the Wild hunt. Or divine punishment. I think though that we should leave the details I just mentioned out of it. If nothing else so to protect the mortals around Mrs Mishkin. Yes, she is married according to the gossips. Married to a very rich guy, that she met at school. Before you ask, no, the man with her was not her husband. I checked.“

“Oh. Yes, that sounds like it should be enough to close the case.”

“Besides, the Wild hunt follows its own rules, and are not subject to our laws. If you are the target of the Hunt, then you die unless you can find someone more powerful that will protect you, or you can offer them some other target that they think are more worthy. If you are not the target and you get in the way, you either die, or join them unless you can hide and have them pass you by. Those that join it, they seldom even remember what they did during the hunt, and they are frequently transformed temporarily into wolves or hounds. It is a bit like some sort of mind control, where the more primal parts of your brain takes over; aggression, desire for sex, and a rush of ecstasy of sorts, and the effect can linger for a while afterwards. But I have never heard of anyone being so affected, as she appears to have been.”
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