Tales of the Seven Fingers These stories were originally a collaborative effort between myself and another writer on the RP World website. Sadly my writing partner dropped out before the tales were done, and the site has been inactive for quite a while. I have re-compiled the tales, editing out his characters as best I could and adding a few of my own to fill in. It is set in modern times, in an alternate universe where supernatural creatures exist, magic works, and gun powder was never developed. Nominally it would be referred to as 'Steampunk'. The story is incomplete, ending where the project died. Still, I believe that it is an enjoyable tale to read and so I've added it here. The story presented here is purely fictional, and a result of compiling my own archives of the tale. Enjoy! Tales of the Seven Fingers Prolog - Sonny's Tale 1 - Seven Fingers Down 2 - A Dead Run 3 - A Dark and Stormy Night 4 - A Pirates Life For Me 5 - Devil's Play 6 - Liberty 7 - Abduction! 8 - Rouges in the Parlor 9 - Trey of Cups 10 - Love Boat 11 - Smoke on the Water 12 - Right in the Eye 13 - Captain Brassman 14 - Offin' the Score Sonny's Tale It was a cool morning. The humidity of the previous day, along with the night's gentle mist, hung dripping from the branches and clung to each blade of long grass. The moisture steamed off of Sonny's warm skin as he chugged along in search of the mushrooms that Momma so loved. He stopped, perhaps to savor the moment, or perhaps to get his bearings, and wiped the gathering dampness from himself with an old oily cloth. His eyes scanned the mottled greens of the deep forest for his colorful prey, he sensed the fungi close by. It was a sense almost like smell, but augmented by Momma's magical talents when she delegated this task to him. She delegated most of her tasks to him now, her strength waned with her advancing age. Sonny built the fire, chopped the wood, fixed her meals, carried her to the porch on warm days. He performed all the manual labor associated with Momma's duties as the valleys only Mambo, an unlicensed hedge- witch. Today he was picking mushrooms, but not just any. Oh no, Momma had specified the particular type. It was the main ingredient in a hallucinogenic potion meant to deaden the worst pain and ease someone into death. Locating his quarry, Sonny stuffed them into the sack he carried and weighed it in his hand. Yes, that would be enough for Momma's needs. Happy now that he could get away from the dampness he turned on his heels and headed home. Home was warm, as it always was now. Momma said the cold seeped into her bones, so Sonny did his best to keep the cold at bay. Soon the sun would be high in the sky, the sea breeze would flow up into the hills, and the air would warm up and dry out. He could carry her to the porch then, if she was up to it and the weather suited her. She liked to sit in the sun while taking visitors, the people of the valley who warily stopped by for spells or potions. Even at her advanced age people approached her with a little awe, she had been Mambo for their parents, grandparents, and probably great-grandparents. He went to her bed to see how she was doing. Breath rattled deeply in her chest as her rheumy eyes opened, she had sensed his presence. He knelt by her bed so she could see him. “Sonny,” she whispered, stroking his bare head gently, “dear Sonny.” Her ancient hand stroked the smooth brass carapace lovingly. “Not long now, no. No time left to brew the potion.” She breathed deeply and coughed. “Be a good boy, Sonny. Try to blend in once I'm gone, it will be hard. You're different, use that. Remember momma loves her Sonny.” “I love you too, Momma.” The ancient crone laughed, probably a mistake as it morphed into a bone shaking cough that lasted several minutes. Finally, catching her breath, she sighed. Stroking the smooth warm brass of his chestplate she said, “Poor Sonny, you don't have a heart dear. Momma couldn't give you one, just a little steam plant to run your gears and drive linkages. Remember to keep your firebox stoked and your water level up, if you run down there will be nobody to top you off.” She smiled at his nearly expressionless faceplate, “And keep your brass polished, you know how to keep the verdigris at bay. Wear clothes at all times outside, it will help to hide your strangeness as well. Oil your linkages... “ The witch closed her eyes, if there were more to be said she took it with her. After several minutes she gasped, then Sonny felt her heart stop. Sonny opened his firebox and took out a flaming piece of coal. The flaming bit had no effect on his shiny metal hand. “I do have a heart, Momma, you gave it to me. You lit the fire that burns in me still, it keeps me warm.” He placed it on the bed beside her. “Now I leave this part of my heart with you. It is yours forever, to keep you warm as well.” He gathered the clothes Momma had made him to hide his strangeness, along with a sack of coal and a large jug of water. He left the collected bag of mushrooms, along with everything else of Momma's, in her cottage. He donned his clothes, a simple workman's outfit and a broad hat, and put his supplies into a back pack Momma had given him long ago. He remembered using it for collecting mushrooms at one point. Momma's last delegated task given, the mechanunculus, a collection of mechanisms and homunculus know as Sonny, left the only home he had know to accomplish it. He walked toward the world he had never seen with one final task- blend in, stoke firebox, top off water, polish brass, wear clothes, and oil linkages. His thaumamechanical processor compiled these multiple tasks into simply 'maintain self'. As he walked along moisture condensed from the humid air onto the cool surfaces of his ocular sensors and a tear formed. He wiped it with his oily cloth, remembering 'maintain self'. Somewhere far behind him Momma's cottage finally caught fire from a carelessly placed burning coal. ~ Sonny walked quite a while, in the opposite direction from most of his foraging trips. He knew that area and there was nothing there to help him maintain himself, but in this direction was the unknown. This was the direction that coal and oil came from. Water would not be a problem, there was plenty of it around. The day wound on, the sun beat down on his broad hat and dried the moisture from his skin and clothes. By mid day, the time he would have fixed Momma's lunch, he had discovered an anomaly in the terrain and identified it from her books as a road. Processing the memory of learning at her knee caused a momentary involuntary shudder in his mechanisms. He attributed it to low resources and topped off his coal and water. While maintaining self he pondered the road. It wasn't so much a road as a leveled, widened path with two wheel ruts ground deep into the packed soil. In one direction, right, it wound into the hills, generally in the direction of the cottage. Although he had not encountered it in that area, he was fairly certain that it would eventually take him back. Sonny turned left down the road and began chugging along with his steady clockwork gait. Within less than a mile he encountered tilled, fenced fields and cottages. There were a few people working in the fields, they generally paid him no mind unless they were close enough to make out his face or hands. If they were close enough he elicited mostly silent awe. Only once was he spoken to, by a small boy of no more than eight. "Hey mister," the lad asked staring wide eyed, "you look funny, what are you?" It was an innocent question, seen by Sonny as nothing more than an observation followed by an information request. Still, the interaction with someone was a welcome diversion. Their was a faint creak as long unused linkages lifted the corners of Sonny's mouth. It had been a while since he smiled, and he made a caveat for his next service break to lubricate the area. "I am a mechanunculus, a machine made in the form of a man. I can perform any function that a man can, but tirelessly as long as I have fuel, water, and regular maintenance." Sonny replied flatly. "Ya don't sleep? Do ya eat?" the child asked. "I have a dormant period. I don't really sleep, I usually just don't have anything to do while," he caught himself, he had almost said Momma. He wasn't sure why he couldn't refer to her, and made another caveat to be entered into his service log book. "people around me sleep. I do not eat, but I burn coal much like your body burns food." The boys eyes got very large, "Wow, can I see?" Sonny's metal digits deftly opened his shirt, then unlatched the little door in his belly plate.