Dreams of Unseelie Elves and Tuatha as chess pieces while you play a game against the Dark Lord Sauron chase about your head, and then you wake on a stone bridge, but something is wrong. You cannot hold on to the T-800's mind here, you feel an alien influence, but most of all you feel a crushing force like the gravity of a star expelling you. You flail but there is no effect.

And suddenly you wake in your regular body. The sensation of breathing is utterly strange after so long. But then you cough. The air reeks of coal smoke, and the rot of wet wood, and the stench of cooking cabbage. You feel hard, blocky shapes under you, and touching them earns you a splinter in your index finger.

A door creaks open.

"Oh, my! Is the gentleman alright?" The voice is above you, near the door.

Male or female voice?

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine I think."

What am I wearing? The T-800 had the survival pack. That sucks. Gonna have to make two of those.

So what's around me? Where am I?

Male voice.

You're wearing a slick to the look, comfortable to the skin, Magnificat pair of pants and a tunic which tightens to fit your frame. Plus a pair of socks and tennis shoes are next to your feet on the crude wooden staircase.

You see a dimly lit room that is bricked in, and has no windows. There are iron scrollwork shelves with hundreds of Mason jars full of various foods. In the corner is a large furnace, and in the other corner is a pile of coal waist high. The man is dressed in black pants, black shoes, a white shirt and a white vest.

He hands you a tulip glass with a golden liquid with alcohol in it.

"A bit of a restorative, sir. Put you right as rain."

"You sound like you were expecting me." Down the glass in one gulp. "You got any more of that? You got any hemp?" I haven't had any hemp in a while.

OOC) What skill are you putting Order sight under?

I don't have my hammer, but I'm going to try to Order sight around me. Where am I? Like the house, the neighborhood, the city if possible.

(Doing Therapy)

"Well, not exactly sir. I had brought Lord Cartland's sherry from the sherry cabinet, and was on my way down to the wine cellar for Mr. Blake's nightly good red, before coming back to the drawing room, when I came upon you. And you seemed to need the sherry more than the dozing lord."

He clears his throat.

"If you will let me pass sir, I can get you a bourbon from the cellar. We have no hemp. My name is Martins, sir."

Order sight is Holy Magic. You look about you, and the room is heavily tilted toward Order. The man is very orderly.. A very few of the jars show signs of Chaos. What Chaos is about seems limited in scope.

You don't see beyond this room.

"Martins, I appreciate everything, but I probably better be getting on my way. I've got some property I left outside. So if you'll just show me to the door......"

Gotta find gear. I have nothing. Gotta make two survival packs, if I'm gonna keep switching between the bodies like this.......

"Very good, sir." He leads you up into a back hallway lit by a gas lamp on the wall, past another man similarly dressed, and into a library of about three hundred square feet with leather bound volumes in the wall bookcases and a male librarian in the midst who looks up from reading a large hardcover.

You see one man come in as you enter the next room by the spacious wood panelled doorway. He has a tophat and a long black coat over a suit. He hands off the hat and the overcoat to the hatcheck man by the door, and nods to you before walking past.

"Baron Winters." Martins says deferentially in greeting. The Baron smiles back. "My usual, Martins, in an hour,if you please."

Martins takes you to the front door and down the steps to the cobblestoned street outside where a horse and carriage is pulling away.

"Good night, sir." He says and returns. Above the door of the establishment you just left you read 'Marinade Club'. The street is lined by tight packed brick buildings of one to three stories in height. You can smell coal smoke, and the ocean, and horse dung. Its night, but you can't see the stars.

Before Martins goes back in, ask him if I can go back inside and get something to eat. I just realized, this body has been fed probably intravenously. I'm probably starving.

If I can't get anything to eat, look for scriff senses.

(Doing Therapy)

Martins brings you a brown paper package tied up with string. Its roast beef on rye bread with mustard and sauerkraut. He also includes a bottle of beer.

You set out on the cobblestone road under the infrequent gas lamps, and fog wreathes the streets following a verser sense . The main streets have some light, the side and more winding ones, less, and the dark alleys which are plentiful have none.

A great bell chimes out nine times.

You pass a music hall filled with roughly dressed working men, and women of ill repute, all loudly carousing. You can see strong lin.es of order in the place. Overall a miasma of Chaos. And the gin in the drinks looks revoltingly chaotic.

Find gear. When I find the gold, come back and have a word with some of these ladies of ill repute.

You walk past a theatre getting out, and men in tophats, and ladies in dresses are leaving. Beyond that you keep walking a couple miles, and smell even more strongly the water. And then a great stone bridge appears in front of you, stepping across a wide river.

You walk on it, and find in a dark shadowed spot your gear. You also see a footprint in a thin film of dirt nearby. The footprint of a Terminator.

If not for the fact that it has my gear, hammer, etc. I would just let it go and do its thing. It had ALL of my guns!!!!! Try to Order sight it. Not sure what exactly I'm looking for with Order sight, but we'll see what we see. At any rate, I'm going to gather up what I can. Get some gold and try to get a place to stay for the night. Keep my ears open for a demon on the loose. Good thing is it doesn't have any skin, so it should be easy to spot.

You found your backpack and your hammer. Its true that it would keep your guns and ammo. I assume you have gold in your gear.
.
You walk further across the great stone bridge, and see up ahead a dead man laying on the roadside, almost naked, with his neck clearly broken. And in the distance you hear shouts and tweets of whistles from several running men. They are coming your way. And then one tweet stops mid whistler.

In your Order sight you see the bridge strong, but moving water under you weakens your magic. The bobbies near the body are tinged orderly. There is a tall, thin man standing with them who is a remarkable combo of very strong Order and Chaos.

Did I find the bulletproof trenchcoat? I don't remember whether Magehammer or the T-800 had that.

I've often wondered if the Order/Chaos magic can be combined. (The version of Magehammer I run as referee can combine it to Do Anything.) What I want to do here is use that magic to project an image of a naked T-800 endoskeleton. Something that everyone will see and hopefully run from. Everyone except the real T-800, that is. So, pull the hammer, project an image of a T-800, and see how everyone reacts. The tall thin man is who I am keeping my eye on.

You project it, and everyone leaps back, and runs. But the tall, thin man grabs a man's arm next to him. This man was not running very fast, and had produced a .38 sized revolver from a coat pocket. The tall, thin man turns about, looking, probably for you. Somehow he knows. Even in the dark, there is a piercing intensity to his gaze.

"Its an illusion, my dear fellow. No shadow. Possibly holographic though I saw no machines capable of supporting such nearby. And since I keep up on such things, I know its not an advance of Progress. Instead its a some Art Arcane."

OOC) Did I find my trenchcoat?

"Thanks, whoever you are. Can I have that .38?"

Then to the guy that pulled it on me: "You're lucky I don't have my guns."

"You got that right pal. I thought you were somebody else. Good thing you're not who I thought you were or somebody would have died here today. So who are you?"

(Doing Therapy)

OOC: No. The Terminator is going to want it to disguise his robotic nature. Its why it killed the man, to steal his clothes.

"No, I think I will keep it safely with me." The mustached man with the .38 says with a small smile. "Perhaps we are both lucky."

"Nonsense, while you are skiled, this man is a trained killer." Says the the tall, thin man. "Why don't you introduce yourself first, Mr. Time Traveller." He replies.

OOC) Yeah, I know that. That's why I am asking a third time. Where is my bulletproof trenchcoat? I can't imagine the T-800 would abandon that, even if it didn't know the coat was bulletproof.

"Whatever dude. It's not like you can kill me."

Which one of us is the trained killer?

"Me? I'm nobody. I'm just a guy who was unlucky enough to land here with my pet killer robot. Now I have to put him down. So what's your story?"

You sense a vector to another object, which is roughly in line with the twe,,,

"Really." The mustached man says with a skeptical tone even as he puts up the revolver.

You are the trained killer.

"I am a consulting detective. This is my associate. Your robot is seeking Doctor Jonathan Brightley. He is a master roboticist and clockwork engineer, and criminally insane."

OOC) HUH??????? Where's my trenchcoat Eric?

Puts it up? As in puts it away or points it at me?

Wonder how he knew that..... I'm not really a trained killer though. An experienced killer, but I've not really been trained. Unless you count being inside the T-800.

"Why is that? I'd want to seek that guy too. I need to reprogram that thing. Tried to in the last world, but the guy Rigel turned around on me. Story of my life. I need to reprogram it so that it will be my protector."

According to The Sarah Connor Chronicles, they had reprogrammed Terminators on every base. Sometimes they even commanded the humans on missions. A lot of the future soldiers greatly feared this. The bases are already invaded by SkyNet, ya know? Ain't no way I would put a reprogrammed Terminator in command of humans. It would be without skin so that it couldn't be mistaken for human and treated like a useful tool. It might use those amazing robot reflexes to drive the boat, but it wouldn't be in command of the boat, ya know? (If you watched the series, you'd get the reference here.)

(Doing Therapy)

OOC: On the Terminator's back, which is probably near the broken off tweet noise from the searching cops across the river. Which probably means a cop came up on the T and lost his life in the process. The cops don't realize they are hunting a lion.

Mustache puts the revolver back in his coat jacket pocket.

The thin man seems very sharp in an intelligent way.

"The mad doctor uses aetheric waves to control his robots. Those waves will have controlled your robot. And Brightley is covetous of any robotics that are not his. We can get a taxi and have the carriage take us to Brightley Manor if you like, sir."

OOC) No, they /wish/ they were hunting a lion...... Thank you for clearing that up.

And I grip my hammer a little bit lighter.

"Sounds good to me. These robots could locate one another on a battlefield and take instructions from the main computer. I don't know if it was a GPS, or whatever, but I do know they can respond to some kind of signals from someone else. They can also act independently if set to do so."

But they can't disobey orders from SkyNet.

"So let's go find this dude."

(Doing Therapy)

You climb on board, and the thin man gets out a pipe, and so does his associate. They smoke quietly as you ride past Big Ben which goes for ten chimes this time.

Eventually, you arrive at a manor with a walled courtyard, and to your astonishment, bright electric limelights. There are over a dozen carriages pulled up in the courtyard, and the two story mansion blazes with light unlike its neighbours which are lit by much dimmer gas lighting.

A golden robot man approaches the carriage, and opens the door for you three.

"Well come," The sound of an unwinding gear. "Gent till men." It steps back and points toward the front of the house fifty feet away.

What are they smoking? Do they want to try some hemp? Can I smoke some hemp?

At this, I'm gonna be like O_o

Then ask "How advanced are these robots?"

(Doing Therapy)

Tobacco. But they have no problem if you want to smoke hemp.

"I prefer tobacco, other times, when I have no game to attend too, I prefer cocaine." Says the tall man.

"Gin and tonic for me." Says mustache.

"Dr. Brightley is the greatest roboticist in history, even better than the Atlantaens of shortly after the Flood." Says mustache.

You see what looks like clockwork and steam gear, rather like a very large Swiss watch.

"Yeah, I could go for a hemp cigarette and a gin and tonic right about now. Tried cocaine once or twice. Wasn't too impressed by it myself."

So did I get that?

"I've been to shortly after the flood. Never saw any robots. Met a really cool king though. Heracles. I'm gonna miss him."

(Favorite NPC of all time)

Ask these two, I want to call them Sherlock (Tall Guy) and Watson (Mustache) "What metals does he use? It's been a while since I've made it, but I've been known to make a much lighter, stronger form of iron. I'm a metallurgist myself. Maybe I could lend him a hand."

Imagine a robot made out of black iron.......

(Doing Therapy)

"I'm certain our host will have that." Dr. Watson says as you, Sherlock Holmes and he walk up to the front of the manor. The door opens as you approach, without a butler, and you can hear a couple behind you three who gasp. However, you easily spot the IR eye.

"Yes, one of the pleasures of travelling without travelling would be to meet the great men of history. I would love to converse with Aristotle or Socrates." Holmes says as you three enter the entrance hall which is a wide, and glittering place with golden robots available to take cloaks and hats.

"I should like to meet Moses or the father of medicine myself. Both did so much for the healing of man." Dr. Watson says.

Upon request, the golden clockwork bots provide your intoxicants.

"Conider such aid, carefully, Mr. Traveller. The doctor is an honored light of society now, but not too long ago he was in Bedlam. And justly so. He is dangerous." Holmes whispers back as you three enter the main hall, and spot about a hundred couples and others talking and chatting with each other in a mirrored dance room with parquet floors.

What da ||||? Only the T-800 has an IR eye. Is the T-800 out there? That's what my character would be thinking, and he wouldn't go inside until he confirmed it.

So, what da |||| is the IR eye, who has it, etc?

(Doing Therapy)

IR eyes are at all shopping centers nowadays, or a lot of them anyways. Its what opens the front door, unless they're using a pressure plate system.

OOC) Oh sorry man. I totally didn't read that right.

"The only difference between a hero and an idiot is they both did something incredibly stupid and foolish, but the hero lived to tell the tale. So he was in a nuthouse not all that long ago? Big deal. Not all that long ago, I was a paranoid psychotic. Hey, we all got our flaws, right gentleman?"

I'm slightly offended. Magehammer is a mercenary. He cares not for your cause. He's offering his skills to The Highest Bidder. I think that's the direction I would end up going. Who is to say what's right or wrong on a given world?

"Do you know if he's got a blacksmith's forge available? I'd love to try to make some of that iron."

Seriously. I bet that guy would pay top dollar if I could armor his bots with black iron.

(Doing Therapy)

"I'm certain he has a forge, even a factory." Holmes says. He does not seem disposed to argue, nor to agree. Dr. Watson just studies you.

The three of you meet several folk, and then you hear that the host is in the next room. So you and some others go there, and you see a pair of rapier duellists going at it with blunted weapons. And then the duellist on the left does a complicated move, which fails, and the other takes the point.

At which point a Van Dyke bearded man with spectacles and a retreating hair line comes out from behind a screen and speaks loudly to the fifty or so mostly men in the room.

"My friends, this was an unfair exhibition. For you see, this man is the Austrian national champion, and his coup de main would have disarmed one...if he were facing a man with a man's strength."

The duellist on the right (OOPS--edited) takes off his mask to reveal a golden head.

"I controlled my robot by aetheric waves, and despite my inferior skill, I was able to triumph as I shadow duelled behind the screen."

Adopting a bad and obviously fake British accent, I say to him "Well played old bean. So you're the man to see about robots? Well, I've got a doozy of a robot for you old chap. It's out there somewhere."

Wait for response

Then pull out my hammer and show it to him. "This metal is called black iron. It's stronger and lighter than iron, and has quite a few other interesting qualities. Might you be interested in having this metal for your robots?"

Not sure yet if I can deliver on that, but we'll see.

He looks interested, and then when you do the ice cube trick, he steps back.