A Locked Door to the Shadow Plane of Existence

There is a door. It is bright and vibrant and has been spray-painted bold colors. It’s in a part of town where that is common, so the door would probably not have drawn your attention.

It is locked.

“Because of course it is,” I complain. “Every god damn door in this town is locked.”

You might say something about how that really isn’t that unusual.

To which I would say something like, “That’s very 21st Merkin of you.”

I rummage around in my bag and find a keycard. It is oversized and thick and looks like it might have been used in a sf movie in the 70s or 80s as a prop.

With an irritated flick of the wrist, I run it through the scanner box mounted by the door.

The box beeps and an LED turns from red to green.

You can hear the door unlock.

“Finally,” I moan, then fling open the door.

Within it is impenetrably dark—so dark, you can’t see anything at all, not even depth.

I pause at the threshold and look at you. “You comin’?”

If you have the Black Book of Fear with you [Ed. it must be written on your sheet or in your journal as being on you or listed in your inventory], you may see in the darkness. Otherwise, you’re going to need to hold my hand.

I realize this and offer it to you, shake my arm a little to make my bangles jangle. “C’mon. I’ve got you, babe.”

Alternatively, you can choose to peace out and meet me back at the Brubaker. You can stop reading this chapter or carry on as just an observer consciousness without being present in the scene. Whatever you want.

In any case, I go through.

On the other side, is the shadow plane of existence.

You may have a lot of questions about that, but just hold your horses.

We walk a short way—maybe ten paces or so—and then there is a table.

If you couldn’t see before, you can see now. The room has some sort of very faint emanation of light, though the source is undetectable to normal senses. It feels like it’s internally sourced by the objects in the room, but something is off about the way the light moves for that to be true. So you don’t know unless you have some special trait or knowledge that would allow you to.

On the table, are these items:

A bowl of resin pellets.

A strange glove with numerous dials and clawed fingers, for a left hand.

A gasmask.

You can ask me what this stuff is.

“It’s Klava’s stuff,” I say.

If you know who that is, cool.

If not, read here first. Then maybe go back and read These Are the Things I Know, The Thieves of All That You Are and Love Is What You Have. You know, if you’re just killing time and have nothing better to do than read 250,000 words right quick.

If you look back in the direction from which we came—you know, back at the door—you see the door looks quite different from this side, wrapped in shadow and vines. The door itself seems to almost have a kind of face, though not really a human one.

A bad feeling overcomes you then, even if you are not particularly perceptive and have no traits relevant to this place or magick.

Perhaps we should go, you suggest.

“Inna minute,” I say absently, inspecting the glove. “It’s been awhile since I’ve used this fucker.”

Your agitation likely increases; or, if you are a very calm person or have some skill in keeping your composure, instead you get a danger sense, an awareness that unfriendly entities are approaching and that soon the door might be hard to access.

You say something to this effect.

“Don’t worry about them,” I say. “They’re a bunch of punks.”

If you want to leave now, you may. You can continue reading, but your presence will be limited to observation.

Then, three nearly formless shadows push from the darkness surrounding us. I say nearly because there is a vague shape to them, an impression you read as insect-like.

Tee, you might say. I think we should be going.

“Just gimme a damn second,” I say, then lift the gas mask off its pedestal. “I don’t know if this will even fit me.”

The shadow forms inch closer.

Play procedures

• You may have a trait that allows you to notice secret doors. If you don’t or haven’t thought about it before, you can count this chapter toward unlocking that secret.
• You can add any of these items to your inventory for future use. You don’t necessarily know how to use them, but you can have them nonetheless.
• If you elected to leave before the shadows creatures arrived, then you don’t see me for a few days after. But eventually I show back up at the Brubaker.
• Write about a time or place that was steeped in shadow or mystery that you braved. How long could you stay?