Chapter 4
Acts Chapter 8 V 39-40
39. And when they were come up out of the water, the Spirit of the Lord caught away Philip, that the eunuch saw him no more: and he went on his way rejoicing.
40. But Philip was found at Azotus: and passing through he preached in all the cities, till he came to Caesarea.
Tobias's Journal:
After my 18th birthday and many years of training, I still knew little about the man who saved my life and took me in. I knew more from reading his reports in the archives than I had learned in a personal sense. One thing that always stuck out to me was in the majority of the reports I read, Simon always carried a bastard sword. In training, this was also his weapon of choice, even if it was only a wooden replica. Philip had introduced me to Thomas, the man who was in charge of the rites and rituals of The Order. I had started to notice all of the men were tattooed and the weapons, if you weren't looking for them, would almost disappear from sight. I mentioned this to Philip one day in passing and after a moment of thought, he took me to Thomas. I thought I had made a grievous error at first, but Thomas was ecstatic that I could already see the tattoos. He said that I had been given the gift of sight and that it was a very rare thing for an apprentice or anyone who was not a full member to see these things at all. After Thomas explained in part, exactly what his job was, we became good friends. I brought an idea to him one day that earned a rare and genuine smile from Simon. After a few months of trial and error we finally finished the project. We had made Simon a new bastard sword. I had an idea, after Thomas showed me an arrow that he had been working on. The head of the arrow had an odd engraving on it that I hadn't seen before, it was a sigil of unbinding. Thomas explained that most of the undead were bound spirits, either that of the person whose body was now dead but still animated, or of a demon, like in the case of flesh golems. This sigil, once pierced into the vessel, would free or cast out the soul inhabiting the body. It was brilliant and I asked him why I hadn't seen this on any of the other weapons. We started with the basic bastard sword and did some deeper research. After a few days in the archives we had the unbinding ruin, as well as a handful of others that would either burn or weaken many of the creatures we fought. Blessed silver was wonderful against the damned but it was soft so rarely used in weapons. The end result was a bastard sword that had a scroll of blessed silver running most of the length of the blade. Engraved onto the silver was the ruin of unbinding as well as the others we found to harm or drain the power. The silver would spin freely, almost like a roller, in the center of the blade, ensuring the repeated sigils would contact as much as possible when stabbed into an opponent.
Once Thomas and I had finished the sword, with the blessed silver and all of the ruins, I wrapped it up and managed to sneak it into the practice grounds. Hiding it underneath the pile of rock sacks I would move daily from one end of the field to the other. Making sure it was at the back of the pile, but not underneath it to be crushed. The next day, Simon watched as usual, as I shrank one pile of stone sacks and grew the pile on the opposite end of the training ground. As I got to the last few sacks of stones, I called out to Simon and told him there was a bundle of cloth behind the pile. Slightly alarmed, he rushed over and asked me to stand back a bit while he investigated. I could see Philip and Thomas had wandered out to the training area as well, knowing what was coming. Simon grabbed the last three 50 lb sacks and tossed them effortlessly one handed off to one side. His strength was mind blowing to me, at the time. Simon knelt down and picked up the bundle, before noticing Philip and Thomas were also out on the practice field. “Come here, I think our perimeter has been breached! Tobias found this underneath the stone sacks". Simon slowly untied the rope I had wrapped around the cloth bundle and tossed it aside. Then he cautiously started to unwrap the cloth as Thomas, Philip and I crowded closer. I could hardly hide my smile and could feel my heart pounding in my chest. When he saw it was a sword, he reflexively grasped the pommel and shook off the cloth. Slowly he drew the sword from its sheath and admired it in the light. The glint of silver in the morning sun was unmistakable and the craftsmanship of the blade was undeniable. Reverently, Simon laid the flat of the blade in his left hand and brought it to his face to inspect the work. “Do you like it master? Thomas and I have been working on this for some time now. The center is pure blessed silver and I'm sure you recognize the ruins on it as well. The center spins freely, as to ensure the ruins contact as much as possible while being stabbed into any creature you may fight”. I said proudly. The smile on my face quickly froze as I saw the look on Simon's face.
Tobias: Lakeland FL, November 23rd
After a long morning of fighting through I-75 and I-4 traffic I finally pulled into my driveway on Voltaire st. It's a smaller 3 bed 2 bath across the street from a budding Christian college. Nothing fancy but it's quiet and about half way down a dead end street. I was pleased to see a large plastic 55 gallon drum by my garage/shop door. The large “garage” was a finished room and had AC. The previous owner planned to rent it as a studio apartment to college students, but never got around to turning the laundry room into a bathroom. It worked out great for me, having a climate controlled area for gunsmithing and reloading. Knowing it was my shipment from Starline brass I smiled as I got out the jeep and unlocked the man door to the workshop. I picked up the drum with the dolly from my shop and could hear the familiar tinkling of brass shifting slightly. Good ole # 1900. I had ordered another 55 gallon drum of 10mm auto brass last week. 10mm, the best millimeter, I thought to myself with a smile. Walking into my workshop I set the drum down next to my reloading bench to the left. After Hollis met his “shocking” fate I desperately needed to clean and check over my gear. Dumping 500 CCI #350 large pistol magnum primers in the primer collator and checking all the hoppers were full of projectiles, brass and Accurate #9 powder, I fired up the Mark 7 Revolution and set it to load 500 test rounds while I worked. With the press doing its magic behind me, I sat down to go over my primary 2011 set up. The late 1980s and early to mid 1990s saw some wonderful innovation. Para Ordnance came out with a high capacity 1911 from the factory and I didn’t have to weld frames any more. Then STI with Tripp research hit the market with their modular frame system and patented the first 2011. The frame is separate from the grip and the grips are replaceable. The first grip modules were a polymer but aluminum, steel and even titanium grips have since hit the market. I've been building on the 2011 platform ever since C-More came out with a reliable red dot sight. The main reason being the frame thickness. The red dot optics can be mounted to the frame or the slide, I prefer them mounted on the frame so they don't move with the slide. The Para ordnance frames were not as thick as the standard 2011 frame and STI got a lot more aftermarket support. Now there are several companies making a 2011 pistol, parts and mags. Parts availability is a huge help for me because I can just buy extras and not have to fabricate them myself. Caspian made a good double stack frame similar to Para, but had the same aftermarket problems. At the end of the day, parts break and guns get lost. I'm still heartbroken over losing one of my first 1911 builds. I had a matching set and its twin is still in my safe, but Thomas and I spent hours getting everything perfect. It was one of the first guns to have the obfuscation ruins engraved on it, not that it was needed in the WW2 battlefield but I worked in the United States a lot even back then. Looking at my current set up, the gun belt was a total loss, as were the mags which were just plain gone. I have a spare gun, and a new one I just finished, but the new one was a prototype and I hadn't field tested it yet. Anything I can't fabricate in my shop, I always keep a few extras in the safe. Thankfully I had a back up belt, holster, magazine pouches and roughly 50 MBX magazines in the safe. I completely disassembled the pistol and placed all the trigger components into an ultrasonic cleaner, while I inspected the slide, frame, Cheely E2 grip, barrel and compensator.
After a thorough cleaning I broke out the magnifying glass and checked over the sigils, similar to the obfuscation ones tattooed on me, engraved into the gun. These were not important at all to the function but they are critical to keeping all of this stuff low key and out of the public eye. One on the compensator, right at the end of the barrel stops the sound. I don't mean it's like a suppressor, I mean it's absolutely silent AND the public doesn't see the muzzle flash. Between the compensator, barrel ports and 18 grains of Accurate #9... Without this marking, things get LOUD. Blow your eardrums out loud if too close, did I just get smacked with a brick, loud. The marking, in relief, on the breech face around the firing pin hole stamps the brass as it is being ejected. This is another obfuscation marking, so I don't have to worry about picking up brass. The markings on the slide, frame and steel grip are all pretty basic just to keep eyes off. Once I was positive everything was still in working order and cleaned up, I lubricated everything with holy oil and reassembled the pistol. Grabbing fresh MBX mags from the safe, always, always, always have spare gear if it's something you need, I grabbed the 500 rounds and walked into the rest of my home. The practice rounds were basic lead cast and gas checked bullets. They were the same size and profile as the ones quenched in holy water and holding a silver bead, but no silver, or anything fancy. Just the same size and weight as the finished 65 grain lead and gas check 10g silver ball for a total of 75 grains, this way I don't have to change anything over in the press, other than loading the blessed rounds for work or the regular lead ones for practice. Walking through the small galley kitchen and opening the sliding glass door I walked outside to my “range”. In the backyard, surrounded by an 8 foot privacy fence was 2 40 foot by 8 foot shipping containers side by side with the back ends buried into the ground as a backstop. The walls in the middle were replaced with I-beam posts every 10 feet to keep the structure sound. The tops of the unit had mounted lights running the length of it and the back was open to the bare earth. Walking to the end of the range I stapled some fresh USPSA cardboard silhouette targets to stakes held vertically by small steel X shaped feet. After running 10 rounds to confirm the zero on the dot, I loaded up the new mags and had a bit of fun. 500 rounds can go quick, but it was enough to stay sharp and practice reloads. Finished with the fun stuff and making sure the new equipment ran without issue I went inside to prepare for my visit to The Order.
-Mouse-
Hello everyone. I am Mouse, the cat. Sorta. I am named Mouse by my human. I am what may be called a guardian. I was once a human many many lifetimes ago. I am what my tribe called a Wampus cat. Legend among my people was that if you got caught spying on the elders they would curse you to walk the skins of a cat for the rest of your days. I didn’t believe this was true but... I was obviously very wrong. I have now spent the last 200 or so years as a cat. About 5 lifetimes ago I stumbled on this Human who didn't seem to age. I could tell that like me, he was cursed, or blessed depending on how you look at it. I knew he was lonely and so am I, so I do what I can to be there for him. I have been around him long enough to know he fights the darkness. It's amazing what senses cats have, so I try to help out but honestly at 10 pounds, there’s not too much I can do but be there for him and try to act as an early warning system. I know he's typing all of this for later so I'm adding notes as I can. Typing with paws, really isn't easy so I will keep this brief. Now that this introduction is out of the way, I know something is wrong. I heard him get home and go straight to the garage. Then he went outside for a bit. He never forgets to greet me at the door. I can smell the stress pouring off of him. Plus there's the strange feeling I get from the dark room. I'm not allowed in there. It's an all black room at the end of the hallway. Something isn't right in there. I know it's different, there is normally strong magic in there, but this is spoiled. As much as I HATE water, I'm going to try to get his attention while he's in the shower. He must stay out of that room!!
After a long and eventful shower I dressed in a second old pair of jeans and a T-shirt over a long sleeve thermal. I would also grab my leather jacket before I left. The strangest thing happened while I was in the shower too! My cat, Mouse, Long story I'll get to later, jumped in the shower with me. He hates water and normally runs out of the bathroom any time I turn the shower on. He jumped in, hissed, then bounced around like a pinball knocking shampoo bottles and soap onto the floor then ran out. When I got out of the shower and went to get dressed my jeans and shirt were soaked and shredded to ribbons by Mouse. I guess he wasn’t too happy that I didn't greet him like normal. He NEVER does anything like this. I'll give him some extra lovin when I get back. Exiting the master bedroom I walked across the narrow hallway taking the door to the left and walked into my “office”. The office is a bare room. The window is covered with flush plywood. The walls and ceiling are painted black, carpeted black, and the only item inside the office is a black leather recliner. Motion activated LED lights run along the corners, roof and floor outlining the black space with dim blue light, just enough to see by. I went into the room and closed the door, I sat down and reclined as I turned the light out with a remote kept in a pouch on the side of the recliner. Slowly I meditated on my breathing and began to pray, slowly and without any outside distractions, just me and my God, I finally started to lose myself. This is the first step of my trip to The Order. However, before I could get to the next step, my reality jerked, shifted, spiraled down and down and suddenly I was wrapped up tight in oily tar like tentacles. I was being held so tightly I almost couldn’t breathe. Then I was on my knees in a dark concrete room. Immediately I knew by the smell of tar and rot that I was being held by a Shoggoth, but I couldn’t wrap my head around how I was hijacked mid transit... “Hello my son”, said Simon. “My apologies for bringing you here like this but, I truly need you here in person”.