World Lore, Dice Rolls, Tables and Cypher System mechanics (Dropbox Folder)
I was nervous as I walked my usual path to the bar. It was open mic night, but it wasn’t just any Thursday. It was the Thursday after a compilation went viral. I expected fans to show up. It was the first time that anyone talked about coming to see me sing and play. I had a shift before and after my time slot — it was technically during my work hours but my boss was more than happy to let me take time off to get in a set or two. I did have a few fans after all who came religiously to see me.
I took the usual short cut through the alleyway and half way through was confronted by a man with a knife. “Give me your wallet.”
I didn’t have a chance to do anything before sirens wailed past us and the man panicked and lunged at me with his knife. I moved. But obviously it was the wrong direction as the knife plunged into my chest. The man yelped and scurried away. Blood seeped through my shirt and jacket and over my fingers as I felt my life draining from me. As my vision faded a purple light began to engulf me and a searing hot pain radiated through my body and I felt like I was going to hurl with each twist and turn.
But then it stopped and I stood in the middle of utter darkness. There was no pain — no light only a disembodied voice.
“You have been chosen.”
As the words filled my ears, and the vision of my death seared my eyelids and I tried to push the images away. “I don’t want to see that.”
The voice commanded. “Choose.” Something felt oddly familiar about the whole situation.
Light and objects begin to radiate all around me. Each one different, and each one spoke of things I didn’t quite understand. The guitar in sheen black and the embellished flames more than spoke to me — it was me. I felt it more than anything else. There was no hesitation as I grabbed the neck of the guitar and it imparted its vast knowledge unto me.
The other artifacts faded and I was left standing in a boring hotel room. The standard bed, TV stand with flat screen, and a desk in the corner.
The feeling of otherworldliness left me with the knowledge of how to control this space. How to enter, leave and decorate the space. The space had one rule, I listened and nodded as it told me I couldn’t take anything out except that which I brought in. But I didn’t care. Anything I wanted? That was a lot of power.
But the first thing that came to mind was the comforts of home — my childhood home when everything was just right. Right before shit fell apart… I didn’t want to think about it. But the room was a comfort during those times. The rock posters on my wall, the vintage vynil collection from my Dad, even the bed and all it’s comforters and pillows billowing out made me feel safe. I hadn’t known I that I needed it until that moment.
I lay down in the pile of fluff and remembered the smell of home. But there was this nagging feeling that I had to get going. Nothing told me why I felt that way but I just did.
A small voice inside my head told me what I needed to know. Somehow I thought it came from the guitar that I still held by the neck. It felt almost alive. I spoke the word, “Leave.”
My entire body felt small and warped before I stood in the middle of a sterile room with the buzz of magic all around.
The Mind of Nox 