A tale from the fog

Welcome back, agents


We sincerely hope you are enjoying our products. And today, we want to hear from you. We also have a surprise ahead.

How is your adventure going? Are you running an original adventure or something you cooked up? Have any of your agents succumbed to the miasma’s corruption? Are you printing things out?

Share your experience with us! You can find us on most social media, or you can join our Discord server to tell us directly and in real time.




Today we bring you more samples, this time from our anthology “Tales from the Fog.” This collection brings together short tales as told by all sorts of people from the Wounded Earth. They explore real life outside the miasma and missions undertaken by agents from our factions.

Tales from the Fog is available in retail as a digital publishing, but we wanted to give you a good look at what to expect. We are giving away a copy of Aaron Rosenberg’s “Chasing the Light,” which follows a Renascent party in the miasma and the challenges that await them. It explores their dynamics, expectations and All you have to do is subscribe to our newsletter here , and you will receive instructions for download.






Miasma day: A retrospective. Part 5

When we arrived at the harbor, the people who had been escorting us suggested we spend the night in their safehouse. You don’t need to be a special operations agent to know that night is one very avoidable hazard. Their barracks are very basic, but only where sleeping is concerned. They have plenty of technology and enough resources to continue their operations. They have just as many locked “only authorized personnel” doors.

They call themselves REDACTED. I had heard of them in one of the university’s get-togethers. As it seems, these people’s main focus is to REDACTED and REDACTED. They wanted us to participate, to join them. We managed to buy a bit of time to consider their offer, so we returned home the next day. Our first task: to find out more about this Lewis person. With the man himself so hard to find,, we went for third parties. After all, we are not police, and what we want may have been picked up by another.

We found Marianne Lewis, Jonah Lewis’ sole child, in her fifth-floor apartment in downtown Providence. The following is an excerpt from her interview. This is the last time Doctors Oscar Juárez and Bes Chaths Moswen interacted with subjects of study and witnesses for this project. We hope to make them proud.


Camila: How would you describe your relationship with your father?


Marianne: Difficult.


C: Could you elaborate?


M: He’s a survivor of trauma and he has been on his own for twenty years. I can only imagine the things that made him like he was. He was constantly on edge and would react violently to everything, constantly trying to protect himself. He couldn’t sleep for longer than three hours. I think he even had an alarm to keep it for three hours at a time. My mom used to say that the only time he wasn’t tense was when I was born. That sure died out quick.


C: I’m sorry to hear that.


M: Thanks.


C: Did he show any violent tendency on the days leading up to the accident?


M: Don’t know. Haven’t seen him in ten years. [CAMILA DOESN’T ANSWER] Don’t worry. He is the one who kicked me out.


C: During your time with him, did you notice anything strange about his behavior or even about him as a human man?


M: How about it’s your turn to elaborate?


C: Lapses in time, constant confusion, extended presence--


M: Extended presence? What does that even mean?


C: People who have been in touch with the fog sometimes develop what we call a miasmic trail. It is like a side effect of exposure. I have one subject who always loses his socks before taking off his shoes and a woman who, without sleepwalking, always wakes up on her roof. Bit of a nasty shock.


M: Well. During mornings, he would claim to see ghosts.


C: Ghosts?


M: Yeah. He’d stare off into the corner and talk about things from the past that he could see. Our house used to be a motel in the thirties, but they remodeled it to sell as a home.


C: Intriguing [CAMILA TAKES A NOTE ON HER BOOK]. We may circle back to this later. How long did he have this?


M: I’d say always, but that only goes back to my birth. Perhaps it was the exposure from when he was there before coming here.


C: Before he moved from France, you mean?


M: France?


C: Your family is from France, no?


M: Yeah, but from colonial times. I mean, from Québec to Providence.


C: [CAMILA AND DOCTOR SEZJA EXCHANGE A LOOK] Could you take a look at this? [CAMILA HANDS MARIANNE THE ID FOUND IN THE MIASMA]


M: Who is this?


C: Who?


M: The man in this picture.


C: There is no picture.


M: [MARIANNE SHOWS THE ID] Him here. This old man.


C: Marianne, what can you tell about this ID? What else?


M: It’s a fantastic fake. This is my dad’s birth date and security number.


C: Is that so?


M: How did you make this?


C: We found it. How old is your dad, then?


M: He should be in his 50s these days.

END


It is important to note that Ms. Lewis has another Miasmic trail of which she is unaware. One object near her starts to vibrate immensely when she arrives, as if it were being held by someone with a slightly shaky grasp. We only captured this phenomenon through attention by doctor Wong, who brought special equipment “just to rub it in your face later.”


Haru,

Have you heard anything from Bes yet? I’ve been looking for weeks. We were organizing the next expedition over the phone and he just stopped talking. I went by his house but he didn’t open the door when I called. I don’t think he was there. I’m hesitant to ask, but could you check the paper? I’m hesitant about it too. I don’t think I want to learn. I’m worried that whatever happened to Oscar happened to him too, and is going to happen to us.

As we’ve learned, this wouldn’t be the first time the Miasma leaks out somehow.

These are strange times.

Dylan


Our team was confused at first. Marianne was telling the truth, and she gave us a copy of her birth certificate, which eventually led us to the Jonah Lewis who is in prison. Marianne’s story checked out almost too perfectly. Mr. Lewis was born in Vermont and went on to live in Quebec at age twelve. He then moved his new family into the Alliance. He had gone into the miasma during the late sixties as part of the experimental runs being set up by the government.

His account of the miasma, being one of the first to test entering and leaving the fog, was uneventful by present standards. They walked into an Atlantean Outpost in Lisbon, Portugal. The place had been set up by a different party; their task was to touch base and return. They reported no attacks or any miasmic event.

“It’s all a haze still. I think it’s the meds they’re giving me. That or my brain is repressing it all, aided by these handcuffs. We were following a trail. We had seen a gorgeous doe we wanted to bring back. Travis was ahead of the pair. He has...had a knack for tracking. We turned right on the cliff that overlooks the city and we found her grazing against a pile of rock.

“I took aim and steadied my breath, but then I felt a tug. My body jerked around and became all tense. I hadn’t realized, but I had been hearing this whispering roar, like wind rushing through leaves and the plumber scraping pipes. There was a voice inside of it, calling my name on repeat.

“Then I was in this incredibly dark room. I know what this sounds like, but I think it’s important that somebody hears it. It was enormous, like an empty warehouse, but I couldn’t see anything except for shapes every now and then. They were gold in outline, and they had this stench, like humidity and ashes mixed with pomegranate. These shapes danced around and then got lost in the distance. Then a door behind me opened and let in just a smidge of light. I peeked outside to see trenches. They were uninhabited and clean. And cold.

“Then I was back, and a police officer and a paramedic were leading me to an ambulance.”

We ran through his story again and again to find further detail. We were in no position to judge, and it wasn’t our intention. We were curious, because our study had dropped its aim, or had simply transformed it into a rescue experiment. Perhaps if we were lucky, we could bring back Doctors Juárez and Chaths Moswen and learn more about the miasma.


Cam,

I understand you are possibly busy running drills with the new recruits, but I was wondering if you could come around the office tomorrow.

Some of the kids in the Alliance called me to inform me of a couple of details surrounding Jonah. They interviewed him again and a couple of weird things came up. For one, he denies having a kid, let alone an estranged one. He did try with his wife, but they lost the baby. It was going to be a boy and they were going to call him Tristan, like Jonah’s grandfather. I checked; his grandpa died before the miasma even arrived. The name is such a cute story. I might steal it for Gwen.

That is the bigger one. They also asked him what the shapes were doing in his vision (?) when he was in the warehouse. He said he couldn’t tell, but it reminded him of earthquakes. Specifically, he saw their movement like lamps and drapes moving on their own or like a building trying to stand up. Does that sound kind of like what you see? I figured we could use this project to see how to get that trail off of you. It’s a shame you didn’t get one of the optical ones. Sezja says hers doesn’t even hurt her.

We’ll find a way, mate.

Dylan


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