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• An elaboration on freeholds, their • Detail on the four Great Courts, • 16 new entitlements to spice up 02 un, Fool, run, The Knights are on the ride. The sun, it lights their lances, And golden crowns their pride. Flee, Hob, Flee, No sanctuary here. The noble lords are oathbound To wrath and flame and spear. Die, Fae, die, Beneath the summer sun. By oath and Wyrd and honor, Your wicked ways are done. — Song of the Brazen’s Last Stand freehold This book includes: • An elaboration on freeholds, their traditions and advantages • Detail on the four Great Courts, from magic and practices to political intrigues • 16 new entitlements to spice up a chronicle or add an entirely new dimension For use with the World of Darkness Rulebook 52799 9 781588 467157 PRINTED IN CHINA www.worldofdarkness.com 978-1-58846-715-7 WW70202 $27.99 US By Stephen DiPesa, Jess Hartley, Malcolm Sheppard, John Snead and Chuck Wendig ings and filling the air with acrid cordite (a smell that The Longest Day of Summer, Now mixes with the potent brine). Then there’s an explosion. War. One of the parapets falls atop us -- a crashing fist of sand Light on my feet, I’m buoyed by the heat coming off and thorn. I roll forward, just out of the way, sand sting- the sand, driven by the drum-hiss of crashing surf, and ing my eyes. I don’t see what happens to Sunra. pushed forward by a sad and angry heart. When my eyes stop watering, I see that I’ve killed two I pirouette and bend backward. An arrow slices more. I also see a goblin feasting on the body of Rooster through the air above me. I see its dark shape, its razor- Petukh, tearing away great hunks of his leg flesh. He’s tip, its shaft kept aloft and swift by a graft of a dozen black dead. I dance over him, kicking the gross crustacean into hornets. Behind me, the arrow finds a home in the chest another. of Papi Chulo. He bleats in pain. The pistol spins from his Then I see the Keepers marshaling this mad army. grip and into a briny tidal pool. Hornets erupt from the wound. Then he’s gone. Always together, hand-in-hand. Cruel syzygy. Hands backward in the sand, I kick forward: the One in a white sundress with red flowers, her man- flat top of my foot connects with the goblin’s head. His tid face staring out, the other in the black tuxedo with the bone spur jaw slams shut on his tongue, red carnation boutonniere, his wolf head and biting it off. It flops to the sand. The spider eyes looking as hungry as ever. wretched thing is confused, even They are separate, but together. more so when he finds me be- I’ve known that for a long time. hind him, sticking one knife Something thrusts in his throat and another in through the back of my calf, the small of his back. but I refuse to recognize the Over his shoulder, I pain. I step forward with see Tombs Tuttle go down my other leg. The knives under a trio of the gib- are in my hands. bering things. They stab I hurl them forward downward. I can’t see with all my might. Tombs, but I can see his And then I let it all blood running into the out. I open my heart. No, sucking tide. The water is I tear it apart. I rip the pink with it. ventricles open. I rend my I could save him, but I aorta. All the blood and fire don’t. That’s not why we’re and anger and sorrow in- here today. That’s not why side are now free in a single I’m here today. I’m here to finish wave, as ineluctable as the tides. this. It accompanies my knives. The With the sand castle walls tower- sun shines bright with them. A streak ing above me, the crumbling parapets held of fire. A sun flare. My heart’s dread gaze. together by coils of thorn and whisper-thin sedge, I push The dread light illuminates the third finger on my on. left hand and the red bruise that rings the flesh. The light A pair of goblins thinks they can flank me. They leaps forward toward its destination. think wrong. One ends up dead atop the other, and the The wolf’s head keens, its fur charring. The mantid tide comes and takes them both away. face hisses and chitters before it disintegrates. Sister Sunra is next to me; suddenly bullets are bark- I swear they call my name as they die. ing from her AK, stitching holes in the onrushing ranks. Her left eye is fused shut with a crust of blood. The hand The Longest Day of Summer, that cradles the rifle’s stock is little more than a busted claw. But she’s smiling. Her teeth are smeared with red. One Year Ago I always liked her. I goosestep forward, and she pivots “Ramona Ringfinger,” Ivan says, putting his hand on around me. my shoulder. His words are clumsy in that muddy Rus- Back to back, we take down too many to count. My sian tongue of his. His hand is like a brick. “Grandfather knives glint in the hot sun, leaving arcs of black blood in will see you now.” their flashing wake. Her rifle chuffs, spitting brass cas- 2 I twist out of his grip and offer a shit-eating grin. I them through broken mirrors. Down in the dark of sewer can’t say what it is he offers in return: Ivan’s face is a curi- grates and watching from distant boats offshore. Every- ous thing, a cement block that could be smiling, could be body’s shaken. Nobody feels safe anymore. You’re about sneering. to lose everything.” Inside his office, Thunder sits pensive at a glass-top His mouth forms into a tight line. A halo of momen- desk. The windows behind him are open. A balmy breeze tary celestial fire shudders above his head before wink- blows in, growing hotter as it drifts over his shoulder. ing out. I have his attention. Something about the room smells like… I dunno, maybe “This is a concerted effort on their part. We’ve inter- burning plastic. cepted loyalist messages. We’ve heard the crustaceans Standing off to the side is Tombs Tuttle. He has a whispering in the Hedge. These two—” I give the finger corpse grin below a nose-less face and a pair of too-big to first the mantis face and then the wolf face. “—are the sunglasses like you might see some drug-addled celeb- dirty birds who run the whole show.” rity starlet wear (hobo chic, I’ve heard it called). He gives Ivan looms over me. Even his shadow has weight. I a little wave. I wave back. know how this could go. I know what Thunder does these Sitting next to Tombs is a court-less girl I’ve only seen days to those who displease him. I watch his eyes for the in passing. Black Betty? Black Bonita? Who can remem- command, the one that tells Ivan to crush my windpipe. I ber? She’s a frail slip of a girl with too-long arms and think about how I could move to dance out of the way, to double-long legs. She has a sketchpad in front of her and foxtrot right out that window, but I don’t have to. a lap full of colored pencils. “Done,” Thunder says. “This will take time to mount Ah, the artist. an offensive on these monsters. Get with the others and “So,” Thunder says. “You’re sure about this?” plan it. I’ll make sure everyone’s on board. Use this year He motions for Betty or Bonita. She holds up her to train, Ramona. I’ve seen you spar. You’re already good, sketchpad. On it, the face of a mantis stares out, looming but you need to be the best.” large. My heart leaps. I say nothing. The girl flips to the “Will do,” I say. The anger in me is an arrow, one that next page, and there it is: the savage wolf’s face open in a has found its home. Success. permanent snarl. She even got the drool-soaked muzzle Tombs gives me a thumbs-up. right. I clench my fists behind my back and hope nobody Ivan escorts me out. can see. They believed the lies, I think. I feel bad about this, “Sure as anything,” I say. but comfort myself that maybe, just maybe, they weren’t His eyes flicker with lightning. really lies at all, that maybe, just maybe, a kernel of truth “Let’s go over it again. You say these two—” lies hidden under that pile of bullshit. “Mother and Father,” I interrupt (never a good idea, but it’s a habit I can’t be rid of). “That’s what they call The Longest Day of Summer, themselves, at least.” Five Years Ago “This… Mother and Father, they’re the ones respon- The hit splits my lip. I see stars. The ropes of the ring sible for the sudden incursion of the Gentry into my city? are suddenly at my back, and, being dizzy, I imagine for They’re the ones fucking with the sanctity of this free- a moment that they’re grabbing me and holding me and hold?” won’t let me go.