Vixen

"Zzzzt—ksshhh… Artemis, online? Affirmative, Vixen. It appears there was… a temporal disturbance.” Vixen rises slowly from where he landed, his gloved hand brushing the cracked stone surface of a ruined obelisk — the artifact that triggered it all. “I touched a relic. Then a flash of light… and now—this. The sky’s blue, Artemis. Blue. There’s a city over there—people. Where are we?” Artemis pauses. “Scanning… Processing temporal signature… Confirmed: Waterdeep. Estimated time displacement: millions of years in the past.” “…Further data has been lost. Undocumented era.” “Waterdeep? Like in the old texts…” He coughs—dry, labored. “Something’s… off.” “Deploying ventilation mask.” With a soft harmonic pulse, a hard-light mask blooms into shape around Vixen’s face. Vents hiss as cold nitrogen fog streams outward like ghostly breath, shimmering in the sunlight. “Sigh… Thanks, Artemis. Take stock.” “Bzzzt—Kshhh—Systems check complete. – Railrifle: Operational, slight calibration needed. – Rounds: 20. – Holovolver: Active. – Rounds: 30. – Funds: 113.” “Recommendation: Minimize disruption. Blend in. Seek local data nodes or intelligent contacts.” “Yeah… I need to get back. But I can’t just march into town like a war-god.” He adjusts his stance, looking toward the distant walls of Waterdeep. “Artemis — engage Hollowwear.” “Engaging Hollowwear.” Lines of digital light trace across his body, weaving threads of hard-light into the garments of a local traveler — a cloak, boots, muted tunic — indistinguishable from any passerby. “Looking dapper, Vixen. You’ll fit right in.” He smirks faintly behind the mask. “Time to get some answers.” With his AI companion chip Artemis in his ear, Vixen strides toward the city gates. The past doesn’t know it yet — but the future just landed. He needs to find a way back home. Or does he?