See this now, see it well.
A chase that has pervaded the subconscious of those sensitive to the skein of fate. Woven like a spider, more tenacious than a horse hair from which the Doom of Damocles hangs. Though the players have changed and reality is warped, the essential nature of the chase is the same. There was a group of warriors known as the Gunslingers. Destroyed not from enemies outside, but from the malignance within. One by one, falling to their shared foe and his monsters. In the blinding, white expanse of the Mojave Desert there is a figure running. His breath resembles a ragged rabbit, on its last heels. Or perhaps its that of a fox, wily and preparing to turn the tables on its captor. It could be both, you could reckon. But though the faces change, the statement holds true. And that, across the worlds is this.
It had been weeks since he had left civilization behind. His guidance had brought him to the point his foe was within his grasp. But though his body was inhuman, it was mortal like any other. Prone to hunger, thirst...The thirst in particular. He sipped the flask of water, wrenching out the last and tossed it over his shoulder. Dead weight now. Had he more confidence in his magecraft, he might have opened a portal to the Nevernever. But time measured differently there and to use it was to alert his enemy further.
To say nothing of what else might be around yet.
So he slept that night, dreaming of the nights in Gil-Elad and his friend, the man he called brother.
And when he woke, he knew his prey had fled that night, rather than rest as he did. No matter.
But the more he walked, the more dead the world felt to him. Even in a desert, life of a sort flourished. The beasts of the desert, the snake and the spiked toad, the hare and the cacti. The cricket by night and the scorpion by day- he felt none of them. No life, no earth nor sky above.
Only death greeted him, an open expanse and it loomed towards him like an omen of evil.
Lucifer woke up. Sitting up from his sleeping position, he looked the direction of his quarry. He flicked open his pocketwatch, the orbit of the planets marking a time that made him frown.
....He was honor bound to seek the Laughing Man, but this required him as well. Time was, when a Gunslinger could merely go off when needed. But that was then, when their numbers were greater. When the Walls were stronger and the Tower loomed over all, like the face of his father. Now there was only one.
And so for the first time, the Gunslinger opted to heed the call.
And turning from his path, he left towards the way as he opened a hole in the Nevernever and stepped through.
Much later, he listened to the tale with his arms crossed and an impassive expression beneath the brim of his hat. Straightforward enough. And with a grunt, he acknowledged the objective as he prepared himself internally for what was to come.
@Gands @Michale CS
