The other passengers didn’t (and couldn’t) see it: the red wyrm coiling around the Boeing 767’s shredded fuselage, the hate in its millennia old amber eyes, the spear point talons that were shredding the wing’s control surfaces like tissue paper. They didn’t see the ritual scars that traced Kabalistic symbols on the dragon’s steel scales, the glowing sigils that let it survive, barely, in an age not magical enough to sustain it.
The mortals just saw the flame, saw the oily black smoke pouring, and heard the screaming of the wind as the plane’s oxygen was sucked out into the smoke-grey void at the roof of the world. The mortals cried out in fear, and assumed that terrorists with shoe bombs were the worst threats the universe had to offer.
Casseopia saw the dragon clearly, felt the heat of the nuclear furnace in it’s belly and prayed to her brownie friends that the dragon wouldn’t start breathing, at least not….
She glanced backward as she hummed the jump rope rhyme that activated her mystic shields. Frank Lifeld was pushing into the chaos of the business cabin, shouldering cowering passengers aside, the tiger striped fur growing over his muscular body as he called his sword and shield out of the other-dimensional warehouse he stored them in. Sister Rebeka was chanting something in old Aramaic, and before Callie’s eyes, she could see the shredded metal of the fuselage knitting itself together again, rivets somehow taking the shape of tiny Stars of David, ‘Bek’s calling card.
Casseopia laughed loud at that, no matter how many times she saw….
Casseopia leapt clear at the last second, as a talon raked the air where she had been standing just a second before. The dragon’s claws raked the shields on her belly, sending up a shower of rainbow sparks and a smell of burning bubblegum. She back flipped into a crouch, dodging a food cart as it came tumbling her way as the aircraft pitched suddenly, terrifyingly DOWN. She blocked out the screams, and sang her jump rope rhyme louder, extending her shields over the passengers closest to her.
The dragon roared, and the plane started a flat spin as it went down. Casseopia dodged falling luggage, carry on backpacks and laptops hitting her force field with a sound just like the music from Super Mario Brothers and the sticky-plastic smell of a new action figure. Somehow, the little mage grabbed her bag from the overhead compartment as the plane spiraled down.
She threw a spell blind, bolts of Skittles-colored forces-shaped like Lite-brite pegs, hoping to distract the dragon. Behind her, Casseopia knew her team was covering her. She heard he roar of a shotgun somewhere far back, and wondered how Trevor had…
The dragon roared again, and the heat in the burning airplane exploded from intolerable to dangerous. Casseopia could smell burning plastic and faux leather from first class, and dug hurriedly in her satchel. She pulled out a handful of classic Transformers, throwing them towards the cockpit. A mental command told her miniature Autobots to do what they could to level out the plane, while she ordered her Barbie’s and Dora the Explorer plushies to help her fight the thermonuclear wrym.
Casseopia could hear the laugher of the pixies wearing her toys as they went about her tasks, and she laughed too. This was a lot more interesting then the in-flight movie…..
The mortals just saw the flame, saw the oily black smoke pouring, and heard the screaming of the wind as the plane’s oxygen was sucked out into the smoke-grey void at the roof of the world. The mortals cried out in fear, and assumed that terrorists with shoe bombs were the worst threats the universe had to offer.
Casseopia saw the dragon clearly, felt the heat of the nuclear furnace in it’s belly and prayed to her brownie friends that the dragon wouldn’t start breathing, at least not….
She glanced backward as she hummed the jump rope rhyme that activated her mystic shields. Frank Lifeld was pushing into the chaos of the business cabin, shouldering cowering passengers aside, the tiger striped fur growing over his muscular body as he called his sword and shield out of the other-dimensional warehouse he stored them in. Sister Rebeka was chanting something in old Aramaic, and before Callie’s eyes, she could see the shredded metal of the fuselage knitting itself together again, rivets somehow taking the shape of tiny Stars of David, ‘Bek’s calling card.
Casseopia laughed loud at that, no matter how many times she saw….
Casseopia leapt clear at the last second, as a talon raked the air where she had been standing just a second before. The dragon’s claws raked the shields on her belly, sending up a shower of rainbow sparks and a smell of burning bubblegum. She back flipped into a crouch, dodging a food cart as it came tumbling her way as the aircraft pitched suddenly, terrifyingly DOWN. She blocked out the screams, and sang her jump rope rhyme louder, extending her shields over the passengers closest to her.
The dragon roared, and the plane started a flat spin as it went down. Casseopia dodged falling luggage, carry on backpacks and laptops hitting her force field with a sound just like the music from Super Mario Brothers and the sticky-plastic smell of a new action figure. Somehow, the little mage grabbed her bag from the overhead compartment as the plane spiraled down.
She threw a spell blind, bolts of Skittles-colored forces-shaped like Lite-brite pegs, hoping to distract the dragon. Behind her, Casseopia knew her team was covering her. She heard he roar of a shotgun somewhere far back, and wondered how Trevor had…
The dragon roared again, and the heat in the burning airplane exploded from intolerable to dangerous. Casseopia could smell burning plastic and faux leather from first class, and dug hurriedly in her satchel. She pulled out a handful of classic Transformers, throwing them towards the cockpit. A mental command told her miniature Autobots to do what they could to level out the plane, while she ordered her Barbie’s and Dora the Explorer plushies to help her fight the thermonuclear wrym.
Casseopia could hear the laugher of the pixies wearing her toys as they went about her tasks, and she laughed too. This was a lot more interesting then the in-flight movie…..
A child’s laughter when she wins a game with her parents honestly for the first time, the joy of tearing into brightly wrapped packages at Christmas, a moment of helpless laughter, without care or reservation. The Innocent is empowered by all these things; an Innocent gains their power from joy itself.
Innocents are instinctive mages; their power doesn’t come from study and rote memorization of arcane formula; instead it comes in a rush of inspiration as they play, as they teach children, and as they craft amazing toys that are almost alive. Some Innocents claim they learned their secrets from some long forgotten fey race, from changelings and elves hidden just behind mortal eyes; others believe themselves to be half kitsune. All Innocents share a heritage; they are all the children or students of supernatural tricksters and mischievous craftsmen. The Innocent injects anime-inspired levity, innocence and a childlike sense of fun into your D20 Modern Campaign.
Included in this PDF are the rules needed to use The Innocent in your game, including a host of new abilities and 55 new Meta-Magic feats. For sale now at OBS and YGN .
