• We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Dead William: Hmm....how about A and B with a nod to C?

J. Passepartout: Yes, Black made the same mistake Stewart did in revealing himself. He could have quietly taken Heyward out of the picture and no one would have figured out what was happening until it was all over.

Machiavellian: Well, you're commenting now. Keep it up! :)

jwolf: That's a very good question.

Stuyvesant: Hmm....well, I have to say sometimes I wish this AAR would just take a nap. Heyward, Preston, Black and the others have had leading roles in my imagination for nearly two years now. :) Still, every time I wish that I think of some new and exciting (for me as a writer :D) twist. I wonder if this AAR will finish by EU3 or if I'll have to port over!

fj44: I'm not sure how Tom's going to get out either! Yikes!

J. Passepartout: Hm...that's a good question. I'm guessing he knows some of what happened to the Jews in his timeline, but not all of it. Allied troops never made it to the concentration camps, so what he would know consists of Hitler's own opinions, the early attempts to deport the Jews, and probably some very ugly rumors all spiced up by British propoganda. I doubt he knows they were being slaughtered, but I'm sure he knows they weren't being treated well.

Fiftypence: That's okay, I have two chapter 50-odds also! I'm sure it'll get straightened out eventually. :) Welcome, and thanks! Strap yourself in, it gets wild from here.

coz1: Oh...suffice to say Heyward is now #1 on Black's **** list. :)

Storey: It's very funny. Actually I had no idea how this next scene was going to come out when I sat down. I knew roughly where I wanted it to go. (Didn't quite make it) but no idea how. For better or worse it kinda wrote itself.

Samuel Clemens: Black's original mission when he was working through Stewart was to have the US fail. If they failed, the original timeline (with London and Paris destroyed) would reassert itself and Black would be perfectly happy.

With that gone, Black changed his mission to "corrupting its soul." As you can probably figure out from the past posts (and this one makes it blatant), he's attempting to turn the US into a fascist dictatorship. What he hopes to do with this is anyone's guess.

As for Preston being the actual hero...what a dirty, underhanded trick that would be.

Hmm... :)
 
-= 139 =-

April 1784
South Carolina



"What is wrong, sir? You do look so pale." Black smiled, almost solititous. Then his mirth faded, and when he spoke again there was no trace of a British nor southern colonial accent. It sounded strange, foreign. "You stand there wide eyed and slack jawed. Even now, at the end, you do not understand, do you?" Black turned and opened his arms, as if preparing to embrace his flag. "It is quite simple: Create a crisis and you will do anything, give power to anyone for stability. Ideals such as freedom do not matter much when you must eat, find work, shelter and safety. Create a crisis, then give you an out: It is not your fault, but the fault of those who are not like you. Accuse anyone who says otherwise of being unpatriotic or seditious, then watch you throw away everything you fought for so they will still belong to 'us.'" He laughed, a sinister, unpleasant sound. "And the glorious thing, Thomas, is I had to do very little. You were heading there anyway. I just gave you a little push."

"But why?" Heyward asked softly. He stared at Black's back, trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. Another Nazi. No, he wasn't a Nazi...but then what was he?

Black lowered his arms. "Why not?" he asked the flag coldly.

"You're insane."

"Who defines sanity, Thomas?" Black looked over his shoulder. "You? You have teetered on the edge since I've known you existed. Even your Edward had his doubts. Your kind? Insane to a man. No, Thomas. I am quite safe on that score."

"My kind?" Definitely not a Nazi. He'd heard science fiction stories about aliens...No, that was madness. "What...who are you?" Tom began looking around desperately for something to fight with. Anything.

"Made in God's image. That's a laugh." Black resumed contemplating his banner. "We need one more crisis I think. Something to push you over the edge. A renegade general is a fine side show, to show that anyone can fall to their lies, but... Ah! I think we should send Anne to visit Branchville. We'll call it a humanitarian...." He spun at the incoherent roar at his back. The globe fell, its brass base ringing mournfully as it struck the hardwood floor. Black saw a flash of movement, then felt a piercing pain in his stomach. He let Rutledge deal with that, but it was too late. Already he could see the red spray, had the oddest sensation of drowning. To his surprise his vision wavered.

Tom lifted Black half an inch by the hilt of the dagger. "You will not touch her!" he screamed. Blood dribbled from his victim's lips. His clothing was drenched instantly in crimson. He roared again and shoved him to the ground, where he lay unmoving.

Heyward dodged the growing red pool and looked around wildly. He had to cover his tracks. No one would believe him if he said Rutledge was a Nazi or an alien or whatever he was. Fire! He could set a fire! Tom grabbed the lamp, opened it and dribbled lamp oil on the furniture, books, door. Good enough. It had to be. He walked outside the door to make sure Rutledge's guards were absent. No one. Good. More papers on the floor leading to his study.

"You are beginning to vex me, Thomas."

Tom whirled to find Black rising from his pool of blood. His clothes were soaked and torn, but already his bleeding had stopped. Black stared at him coldly, and very deliberately pulled the dagger from his stomach.

"What are you!?" Heyward threw the lamp at his head. Black caught it on his arm and it spun away, shattering on a chair that instantly burst in flame.

"The last thing you will see!" Black raged. He stalked forward, ignorant of the fire.

Tom charged, head lowered like a ram. Black caught him as easy as one would a child, lifted him by his neck cloth and threw him across the room to land in a heap on his back. Before he could regain his feet, Black was on him, dragging him by the hair.

"You do not know how long I have waited to meet you!" Black told his gasping, thrashing companion as he walked to the stairwell. "How many ways I have dreamed of rending your quivering soul!" He casually threw Tom down said stairs and paced after him.

Stunned, bleeding, but not out Heyward bounced to his feet. A shelf stood next to the stairs bearing a heavy lead paperweight shaped like an eagle. He closed his fist around the bird's talons and swung with his ebbing strength, connecting with the side of Black's face.

Black smiled, seized Tom's throat and slammed him into the door so hard it cracked. "I will send you to your hell!"

"You're the devil," Heyward gasped.

To his surprise, Black laughed and let him to fall to a heap on the floor. "Devil? Is that the limit of your imagination? As if the universe is a mere duality of good and evil?" He kicked the prone figure and heard a satisfying snap. "No, child. I am not the devil. I am much worse!" He drew himself up. "Let me show you exactly what I am at!"

Heyward suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. At first he thought Black had kicked him again, but no..this was internal. He felt like he was in a tiny, dark box that kept getting smaller and smaller. Suddenly a blinding, pulsing pain sliced through his head. In the distance he thought he saw a light, and somewhere back there a familiar female shape. He tried to call to it, found he couldn't.

Then his world exploded in light and fire, not unlike a supernova, and he knew no more.

END OF PART III: WHAT PRICE A SOUL?
 
That's a pretty disturbing scene. Did Heyward (simply) die, or will his fate be worse? Is Black hopping bodies, taking control of Heyward now? It doesn't really make a lot of sense (since Rutledge, or at least his body, is still alive, right? I'm assuming his mind would reassert control if Black's presence left him). But there are Black's comments: "I will send you to your hell" and "Let me show you exactly where I'm at!". They suggest to me that Black is doing more to Heyward than simply killing him.

Oh well, I guess I'll have to wait and see. I'm very intrigued in how this will play out and how the forces of Good will win in the end. They will, right? :eek:
 
Pssst! Catknight, just a tip here:


DON"T KILL OFF YOUR FRI##ING! HERO!!!

Conan Doyle learned that the hard way. Believe me, we will pepper you with fanmail, anooy you inthe streets and whine. Also we will not read any of the spiritualist crap you might put out in your declining years.

Great update, DW
 
:D

I'll tell everyone this much: I'm not making the same mistake Arthur Conan Doyle made. IIRC he'dc oome to hate Sherlock Holmes. I don't hate anyone in Resurrection. Wish they'd take a break sometimes, but I don't hate them. :) (Though I will note in passing one of my favorite fantasy/sci-fi series has the main characters drop like flies!)

I haz a plan. It may not be a very good plan, especially as I mentioned earlier I'm in the process of completely rebuilding the last one or two parts of this, but it's a plan.
 
How about sticking to arboricide? That sounds quaintly innocent in comparison to this! :eek: :eek:

I really can't imagine who or what would be even worse than the Devil. And I echo Stuyvesant's concerns about Heyward, although I would call the scene much more than just "pretty disturbing." How about "hideously terrifying?"

Now there must be some force or agent who called Heyward back to this time. This power, whoever or whatever it is, is a force independent of Black and potentially comparable or superior to him or it. See, earlier in the story you had Heyward vs. Stewart, and that was more or less a fair match. Now you have Heyward vs. Stewart's boss and that's just too one-sided. It's time for Heyward's boss or protector to make an entrance.
 
Hmm. Sounds like you like George R. R. Martin. Or at least that's the first fantasy author that comes to mind who kills off main characters like flies.

This was a very gripping update. For a moment I thought that perhaps black had erred when Heyward stabbed him in the back. Apparently it takes more then just a mere dagger to kill a body that Mr. Black inhabits.

I am curious still what exactly he did to exeter and whether there is anything of the old exeter around within that colossus he had become. It seems as if our hero is in for a lot of trouble and tragedy, but I get the feeling that if he survives.. he will be a lot more focused and changed by all of this. That is, if his mind doesn't snap like the protagonists in a Cthulhu mythos tale.
 
Well, consider me confused just as much as Heyward was about what exactly Black is.

And now you've killed the main character! :eek: That, sir, is a bold move. To do that, you must have something pretty special planned. For that, I cannot wait!
 
So Black's not the Devil, but something worse. And now something horrible has happened to Heyward. I can't wait to find out the answers to all these mysteries. :)
 
coz1 said:
Well, consider me confused just as much as Heyward was about what exactly Black is.

And now you've killed the main character! :eek: That, sir, is a bold move. To do that, you must have something pretty special planned. For that, I cannot wait!

Nope I think Black is taking over Heyward's body. Run Anne run! :eek: :eek: I wonder if this frees up exeter and if so what will he do? Probably die in the fire. But where this goes now is anyone's guess. I'm glad I'm not writing this because I don't know what to do with Black. :D He has to have a weakness but what is it?

Joe
 
Last edited:
Well, after countless hours lost (ok, I guess I could count them up, but that would be depressing) I have finally caught up with you, CatKnight. And now I must join the other poor souls in both congratulating you on an excellent AAR and in anticipating the next post.

It is a mighty fine AAR indeed that can capture people who have never played the game.

Vann
 
jwolf said:
Shouldn't that be Rutledge? But in any case, there's no way Black would let Rutledge loose now that he (Rutledge) really knows the score. I look forward to more "good news" :wacko: from Catknight soon.


Oops you're right. :)

Joe
 
Hmm, not much I can say to your comments without giving up the cliffhanger. I'll answer what I can now though.


Stuyvesant: Oh, as far as Black's concerned killing is too good for Thomas. He did more than stand up to him. He hurt him! That calls for exquisite revenge.

Dead William: Hm...I think I dealt with your comment earlier. Fear not, as I want you to be reading my spiritualist crap in my declining years. :)

jwolf: You're absolutely right: As it stands Heyward can't stand up to Black, especially as only now - somewhat too late - is he getting a grasp on the situation. (Not that Black hasn't made some colossal blunders... gloating is one, underestimating people like him and John is another.) It isn't quite as lopsided as one might think though, and Heyward's boss is about to address this.

Machiavellian: You're right about George R. R. Martin. I found it a bit disconcerting when who I thought was the main character was executed part way through book 1, but I got used to it. And you're right on both counts: Black did err. But it does take more than a dagger.

As for General Exeter, I thought we established that months ago! He's taking steroids, and Black is the Austrian skiing coach! Seriously, the 'old' Exeter is still around....the problem is he wasn't subverted like Rutledge. He entered his agreement willingly: He wanted revenge!

coz1: I have plans...now whether they're special or not remains to be seen! As for Black, I'll give you a hint: He's prone to exaggerating if he thinks it'll intimidate people.

Fiftypence: Part Four will begin fairly soon. I want to clear up a detail or two in my mind, since as I've said I've been rebuilding the story somewhat. I may end up winging it - it's answered fairly well so far!

Storey: Black has a definite weakness. Actually two, and now we've seen both: The first is that Ed's still in there, and Black continues to understimate him. The second we saw hinted at last post. He's not invulnerable - just really nasty.

Vann the Red: Hi, Vann! Welcome! The next post will be coming soon enough (I hope!). You've shown up just as everyone's taking off the gloves. Where we'll end up is anyone's guess.

---------------
General Comments:

Well, I had some time to think today. My doubt for where the story was going stemmed partly from the idea I thought 'Resurrect' was getting huge: We're at some 140,000 words. I came up with a way to short circuit what was left...then realized two things:

First, if I have so many people reading and commenting then the story's merely huge, and not 'too large.' Thanks, folks!

And second, for all the incessant pondering they've made me go through over the past year plus, I'll miss many of these characters when they're gone. I even miss von Zahringen. (We'll have to arrange a chat with Chesmu at some point!)

So, I decided I've been worried about nothing. We'll just bowl along and see if this ends in our lifetimes or not. With that in mind, I'm pleased to present....
 


RESURRECTION: Rebirth of the United States
PART FOUR: ...AGAINST THE DYING OF THE LIGHT


resurrect7di.gif


When the Jews return to Zion
And a comet fills the sky.
The Holy Roman Empire rises
And you and I must die.
From the eternal sea he rises
Creating armies on either shore.
Turning man against his brother
Till man exists no more.

-- Damien, Iced Earth


Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas



Coming Soon to a Computer Screen Near You
 
Love that Dylan Thomas poem, CatKnight. And it seems very appropriate.

I admit, I assumed Thomas would be dead. I had not considered (and have no idea why) that he would be consumed by Black, but not killed. That, of course, puts quite a few people at peril.

And as for length, writing time, etc. - I certainly know where you are coming from. But as you suggested - no one has said it's too long. As long as you keep writing it, we'll keep reading it. Take breaks if you have to, keep the writing fresh and don't let it overwhelm you. Frankly, I admire your peristance. I have taken far too many breaks with mine.
 
coz1: Black did try to consume Thomas. Why? Black was angry. He'd tell you himself that he made a mistake. Then kill you before you could tell anyone else!

fj44: I hope to live up to your expectations!

J. Passepartout: Now that' s a safe bet: Black is very angry.
 
-= 140 =-

April 1784
South Carolina



Pain. How annoying. Black tried to pass this on to his host, but to his surprise he didn't quite succeed. Inwardly he grimaced: His attempt to take over Thomas had failed, and in so doing his control over Edward loosened. How very, very annoying.

"Mister Rutledge? It is time to wake up, sir." A male voice. One of the Carolina doctors. Figured. Slowly he opened his eyes, then winced at the lamp light near his face. Instinctively he turned away. The doctor forced his head back and earned a dark glare for his efforts.

"Where am I?" Black growled, still trying to shut away the pain. How unpleasant. Did they all live like this? No wonder they were so pathetic.

"You are in the hospital at Saint Mary's outside of Charleston. No, sir. Pray, do not try to get up. You have been injured."

"I could have told you that!"

"Yes, sir." The doctor held up his lamp, and again Black flinched. "Your pupils are responsive. Good."

"Where is Thomas?" Black tried to rise again, and to his growing surprise failed. Was this body failing him? No! He still needed Rutledge! I will not allow you the comfort of death. You belong to me!

"Thomas..?" The doctor furrowed his brow.

"General Heyward!"

"Was he with you? No, sir. We haven't found him. When your house exploded, there was a great ball of fire. You're very lucky we found you, sir. If the general was with you..." He paused and crossed himself.

Well, that was something. No. Without a body he couldn't assume. Black lay back and closed his eyes. His head hurt less that way. Wait a minute.. "The house exploded?"

"Yes, sir. Watchers spotted a fire and the teams were forming to respond, but before they could arrive your home went up. Colonel Preston is investigating. He asked me to have you explain what you were storing."

"Nothing explosive." Black growled. Apparently Thomas' patron was joining the fray. Fine, two could play this game. "Obviously General Heyward snuck something inside. He meant to kill me."

The doctor drew back, startled. "Why do you say that?"

"He stabbed me!"

"...You're burned, sir. Some wood shrapnel. There are no stab wounds."

Black stared incredulously. No, of course the doctor wouldn't know. He'd healed that wound. "Then you are mistaken," he snarled. "If he's found, I want him arrested. And I want that harlot detained also: Anne Whiting!"
-------------

Colonel John Preston, Commander of the Carolina Guard, walked slowly through the wreckage that had been Edward Rutledge's home. Scorch marks covered the ground for twenty yards in all directions. The house itself consisted of loose boards radiating from a central blast. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn someone smuggled several kegs of gunpowder and lit them. No trace of said kegs though, no sulfurous scent in the air. Burnt wood, brick and stone where the fireplace used to be, and a few items that survived the explosion that lit the morning Charleston sky like a second sun.

Charleston had no police force, not anymore. The Guard had assumed all police duties 'for the duration of the crisis,' and as such this was Preston's investigation. To his right and left, two other men poked at the ruins looking for clues: Captain Barcer, the former militia trainer, and Captain Pierce ... who had visited Rutledge just that morning. With Tom.

Just half an hour ago he learned Rutledge denounced his former guardian as an attempted murderer and probable arsonist. John wasn't so sure. Tom had a temper, not to mention an unpleasant history with Rutledge, as anyone who was there seven years ago when he'd fired a cannon into the man's house could attest, but a murderer? He had been angry the night before... but still, it seemed unlike him.

Plus, even if he had: What did he use to cause the explosion? Where did he get it, and how did he sneak enough into the house to have effect? Something was wrong. Something had been wrong in Carolina for years, and it was time to find out what. If Tom was a killer... fine, he'd be brought down. Too many pieces weren't fitting together though.

"Captain Pierce?"

The blond haired youth paced over, his footsteps crunching on the wreckage. "Sir?"

"Tell me again about General Heyward's visit."

"I was only there for the first part of it, sir. The general seemed furious over our dealing with the Indian problem. His tone varied between anger and mocking poor Mister Rutledge."

John nodded. "Did he seem murderous?"

"I...I couldn't say, sir." Pierce looked down.

"Let me put it another way: Was he armed when he came in?"

"Sir?" He closed his eyes, then shook his head slowly. "No, sir."

John nodded. "That answers any claim of intent, then."

"Unless he did sneak something into the house to make it explode."

"Only to be caught in the blast?" Preston shook his head sharply. "Tom can be a fool, but he doesn't have a death wish. If I was going to try to murder Mister Rutledge..." Pierce seemed shocked at the idea. "...I would have just shot him, then either claim an accident or perhaps start a fire. I certainly wouldn't risk being killed in turn."

"'Scuse me, suh." Captain Barcer ambled over with a small packet of papers, all scorched on one side. "I foun' these. From the location, I'd say they was in his study."

Preston took the papers and flipped through them. Soot, smoke damage and a hasty writing style ensured he could read none of them, but a symbol on the fifth page stood out.

Tom's cross with the bent arms...
-------------

It had taken several hours, but Black finally reasserted enough control over his host body to begin healing. Not too quickly, to avoid suspicion, but enough to take care of the worst of his burns. He let Rutledge deal with the pain.

Thomas. Where was he? Dead? He couldn't assume that. The incompetents around him couldn't find his body. Thomas had almost gotten lucky with that dagger, and his patron had done a remarkable job blowing up his house. Close. Far too close. For the first time in many, many years Black tasted fear, and with fear came rage. He would find Thomas, and if he was still alive he would suffer as few had. Henry's crucifixion would be nothing. He would start with that bitch of his. Anne Whiting had proven resourceful and fled the city. Smart, but not smart enough.

Black didn't open his eyes as the huge, hulking presence crept into the hospital. One of the other patients in the ward woke with a cry, ending in a strangled gasp.

"Make it look like an accident, Jasen."

Exeter was no longer capable of making anything look like an accident, and snapped the victim's neck. Black sighed to himself and concentrated on the breathing of the others in the ward: All deep and regular. All asleep. Fine.

"Jasen, I have a task for you..."