Voodoo, the Macabre
A giant wave arose, carrying dozens of zombies, and crashed aboard the roof. Larissa was knocked down by the force, and gasped for breath as the wave drenched her. Methodically, implacably, Larissa’s zombies rose to their feet and, dripping water and ichor, turned on their frozen brethren.
A battle between dead men is a horrific thing to witness. The zombies concentrated on tearing one another into pieces too small to fight. Lond retaliated as best he could, and many of Larissa’s zombies were destroyed, be even he could not halt so great a tide, and finally several corpses managed to catch hold of him. He shrieked continuously as they dragged him to the side, then vanished over the edge.
Larissa felt a twinge of something akin to remorse. She had ordered the zombies to stop Lond, but they were bent on destroying him. Or could they somehow make him a zombie as well?
The water roiled again, and a new horror emerged. Foot by foot, yard by impossible yard, a gigantic zombie serpent raised itself from the water until it towered over the boat.
Larissa’s throat went dry. She had seen this horrible being before, in one of the nightmares she had had when they had first arrived in Souragne. Then, the monstrous undead snake had spoken with Willen’s voice. Now, it undulated back and forth, its huge, slitted, dead eyes fastened on the dancer.
Misroi’s voice boomed from the zombie snake’s mouth. “Well done, pretty dancer. You survived after all. I’m impressed, I must say. And I do thank you for all the new zombies. They’ll be leaving shortly.
With an odd grace, the serpent lowered its massive head until it was just a few feet away from her. She did not cringe away. Bending close, it flicked a rotting tongue as thick as her body. “All, that is, except one, I think. Since you were so very fond of the little meddler, you may keep Willen.”
Larissa’s heart lurched, and she almost fell. “No,” she moaned, soft and low, “Not Willen!” She shrieked his name, glancing around frantically. The zombie that had been Willen stepped forward woodenly. Larissa gasped, her hands to her mouth, and stared in incredulous horror.
Willen stared back at her impassively. There was no laughter in his eyes anymore, no hint of a smile playing about his lips. All was still and cold. Tentatively, Larissa reached and touched his cheek. The flesh was cool to her touch. She drew back her hand and clenched her fist.
Filled with resolve, Larissa wheeled on the zombie snake, “Anton, I have fought your enemies and prevented Lond from escaping. I have learned your dance and done you honor as a teacher. I ask one great favor from you: restore Willen.” The snake shook its gigantic head. “Poor little dancer,” it said in a mockingly remorseful tone. “You don’t see it yet, do you? I was right. We are kindred spirits, Larissa. You are just like me. If it had been Lond’s doing, why, I might indeed have been able to restore life to the body. But the Dance of the Dead is much more powerful than Lond’s dabbling. I cannot counteract my own magic.”
Larissa’s eyes widened with a new horror, the truth shattering her soul. She had been the one who had done this to Willen, not Lond, not even Misroi. Now, too late, she recalled the Maiden asking if Larissa knew the dangers connected with the Dance of the Dead.
“I thought she meant me,” Larissa whispered. “I thought she meant it would just hurt me…” White hot fury flooded her. She seized the riding crop and hurled it into the water. The dancer screamed at Misroi, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The undead snake opened its terrible mouth, and a deep, rumbling laugh issued from it. “Ah, pretty dancer, why should I have bothered? You would have used the magic anyway, since it was the only way for you to stop Alondrin.” The riding crop reappeared suddenly in the dancer’s hand. Her keening shriek of rage and sorrow could be heard even by the cast huddling in the theater.
Dance of the Dead, Christie Golden
The Three Limitations of Voodoo
There are three major limitations of Voodoo. New Orleans Voodoo cannot:
- Cause “flashy” special effects like lightning bolts and fireballs.
- Affect anyone or anything outside of the Louisiana regional area, with the exception of other Voodoo rich regions like New York, Haiti and Africa.
- Directly affect anyone when their Willpower is successful employed.
What can it do, you ask? Only your own imagination is the limit.
Table of Contents
|IntroductionDisclaimer and Legal Information
A note about real life Voodoo
What does it mean to be a Voodoun?
Chapter 1: Voodoo History on Cajun Nights
Chapter 2: Priests and Priestess of Voodoo
The Emperors and Empresses
The Confiance and Mam’bo Caille
The Houn’sih or Hounsis
The Houn’sih Bassales
Chapter 3: Gods and Goddesses of Voodoo
The Court Loas
The Voodoun Pantheon
Chapter 4: Symbols of Voodoo
The Voodoo Temple
Sword of La Place
|Chapter 5: Sounds Rhythms Chants and Prayers
The Voodoo Chorus
Chapter 6: Performing Voodoo Magic
Primary Uses of Mojo and Costs
Charms and Talismans
Calendar of Voodoo Ceremonies
Chapter 7: Character Creation
Character Creation Outline
New Merits and Flaws
Chapter 8: Voodoun and other Supernaturals
Chapter 9: Lexicon