The Coffin Club

Salvage Union: Floodplain Part Two

They ambled through the forest on a stolen cart. The city burned in the distance behind them as they rode in silence, lit by the light of the moon. The strider was nervous, but Argenta would click her tongue in such a way that it would listen and continue without fuss. The first time she did that, Nia stared at her in surprise. Her goddess smiled. "I grew up on a farm." Questions on questions on questions bubbled up. What farms are there on a moon? What gods were that beyond her goddess? Why was she so capable with a gun? Argenta had her own questions. What was the relationship between Roden and Djartola. Why was the Roden army attacking Djartola. What was going on across the continent. In fact, what other countries were there, what was even going on? Nia answered as best as she could. Roden was forming an empire, Djartola controlled the trade lanes, a contract had been broken between them. Better to annex a neighboring country. The continent was afraid of Roden. There had been many smaller nations once. Now it was Roden, Djartola, Paraleaux, Svatkopt. Soon, one nation less. They rode on, beneath a shooting star. Argenta nodded up at it. "Extra supplies. We're going to need them if we're going to kill the Emperor of Roden and his Inner Council." Nia's blood turned to ice. "What?" "From what you told me, if we kill the Council, it'll spark a war of succession strong enough to tear the empire apart. Fastest way to protect your nation with the least collateral damage." Nia thought about the soldiers in the streets. The hands on the citizens as they fled in fear, of hiding and staying quiet as the troops burned the city. "Are you sure?" she whispered. Argenta sat up at the reins, cleared her throat. "I have done this before. I will do it again. You have called down the power of the Moon to protect your chosen people. It will be done." A smile, a wink, a hand on a shoulder. "It'll be okay, kid." Nia didn't respond. All she did was nod and stare at the stars. https://thecoffin.club

Salvage Union: Floodplain Part One

Nia did not hear her goddess' arrival. She hadn't heard much in the past few hours. The gun was loud. It hit her in the chest with every shot. She'd braced herself against a dresser in the sisters' quarters to steady her shaking hands, protect her begging shoulder, bruised ribs. The soldiers had followed her, but she knew the building. Once the dead started piling up at the door, they stopped chasing her. Or she hoped they had. It was hard to think, move, lean. Her goddess moved in through the doorway. She fired without thinking. There was a corona of sparks, a tired look, and the gun was taken from her. Her goddess was saying something. Nia's mouth was dry, voice a whisper. She reached into a pocket and withdrew a tube. With one swift motion, she pressed it to Nia's neck. A click. A hiss. Sweet relief. Nia was awake. Her body felt fine, her hearing dialing into focus. She could see straight. All she could see was her goddess. Pale skin. Red hair in a long braid. A full, heavy body clad in a full-body singlet, pouches and tools slung across her body. Her goddess inspected the gun as Nia caught her breath. "Can you hear me?" Nia nodded, rubbed her fingers as circulation rushed back with a roar of blood. "Alright. You did well. Who needs to die." https://thecoffin.club

Salvage Union: Saltlick Part Two

"Pick it up." Mother Argenta told her how to bypass the Head Sister's locked door; her voice followed throughout the building. She pointed her at the bookshelf, told her how to move it to the side. There was a safe on the other side, something she'd only seen in banks, but smaller. Mother Argenta told her how to open the safe as well. Inside was a long branch of black, polished metal with wood on one end. It was cold to the touch, heavy, a few hands long. Near the wood were buttons, latches, a catch made out of metal on the bottom. https://thecoffin.club "What is it?" Nia whispered. "A gun." said her goddess. "A shotgun. Good at most ranges." "What does it do?" "It kills." Her goddess' voice was dry, dismissive. Nia's hands shook. From the weight, from her words, from the circumstances. Too many good reasons. "Oh." "The metal end. With the hole. Never point it at anything you do not want to kill. Especially loved ones. Especially yourself. The gun will defend you by killing. It won't do anything else. And it's always dangerous. Do you understand?" "No." she whimpered. "Nia, you asked for my help. This is my-" "Argenta." A new voice. A man's. Smooth, low, controlled. Warm, like a fire about to swell. "Hey-" "Seriously?" Disapproval. "Yes. She asked for my aid. This is the best I can do on such short notice." "Don't lie to the girl because you're lazy." Commanding. Humoring, but the tone beneath. "Who are you...?" whispered Nia. A pause. "I speak to the monks, little sister. I am the Sword of Justice to her Bullet of Retribution. Isn't that who you are supposed to be, Argenta?" Another pause. "What do you propose, then." "Divine intervention." "I can't be there until tomorrow." "But you can be there." Nia held the gun close. "Please?" Her goddess groaned. "Okay. Sure. Stay safe until then, alright? Oh, the switch on the side is the safety. It won't shoot if it's on. And remember, don't aim it at anything precious, okay?" The air shifted. The voices left. All that remained was Nia and the gun.

Salvage Union: Saltlick Part One

The city burned. Nia fled through back alleys, across cobblestones, ducked behind carts and into doorways. Her sandals muffled her footsteps, but she didn't need to worry. The cries and revelry of the soldiers were greater than the sound of a single girl creeping through the smoke-choked twilight. The armies of Roden had breached the gate earlier in the day. The Head Monk of the Priory of Earth had abandoned his post in a misguided effort to parlay with the invaders. An inopportune exit through a doorway turned into a hostage, into an entry, into the sacking of the city of Dalira. They had been sieged for weeks and it was over due to one careless mistake. Nia slipped into the Temple of the Moon and approached the altar. It was a simple stone building, with a small amount of rooms. The main room was the prayer hall, a place of sitting, reflecting, studying the glass windows that told the story of their moons paths. She kicked off her sandals, smoothed her plain robes and pulled her hood over her head as she took the Head Sister's position behind the altar and exhaled. Head Sister had been thorough in her instruction: strike the bell three times, reach in to the drawer beneath, find the clasp, pull, then speak the prayer aloud. Nia was faithful and attentive, did as she was told, and bowed her head. "Mother Argenta. Word-Bearer. Bullet of Retribution. Bringer of Faith. Last Woman of the Moon. Please hear my call." Silence, save for the riots in the streets. And then, distantly, a whisper in her ear, coming from somewhere in the altar. She leaned in, saw where the moons had been carved on its surface, and felt the vibrations as she heard the words. "Oh what the fuck. You're a kid? What's going on down there." https://thecoffin.club

Salvage Union: Drink My Sweat

Jess, Bea, Sophie and Lavender sit down and play Drink My Sweat [https://deecity.itch.io/drink-my-sweat] to flesh out life on the Bluebottle more. What do workers of the crawler do to blow off steam and get closer to one another? Well, old habits and traditions of the prison die hard and serve a different purpose on the outside. https://thecoffin.club