Totemic Riddle Red Riding Hood

Totemic Riddle Red Riding Hood

© Andrè M. Pietroschek, my rights reserved

Revision 1.02


“Wolf wins all fights, except the last, and in that one he dies!”

Foreword: Dear readers, this brainstorming, omniscient tale was written in a drunken stupor & will become an excerpt. It is more than one more Shadowrun story, or may-hap I was dehydrated on day of deciding. It started at WDC, when I read the wonderful and new to me interpretation of “Red Riding Hood – A Fairy Tale of Terror” which we Germans, translated-back, just knew as Redcap, or “Rotkäppchen”. Disgusted by certain setbacks at WDC I had ignored the idea. Guess, what ran on TV that week? No bluff, the interesting performance of Amanda Seyfried. Oh and late night song in the radio, when I went to the toilet? Yep. The Spirits had called me, Veteran Shamanic Worrier, or some-such.

The Place & Setting: Fairy Tale Forest-Village with a Church. It may have a harbor, yet all incoming ships unleash only stranded strangers, and all outgoing ships have next stop Bermuda Triangle. The Heli-Pad is under construction for decades already, funds are limited. Gun-Lore is pretty simplified too: There is the Ares Deerstalker Musket, the Remington Blunderbuss (Shotgun), Ruger Corsair Handgun, and Colt Pirate-Hunter Handgun. Both latter are no-ammunition-clip two barrel pistols. The pocket realm is high magic therefor Cybernetic-Implants cease to exist. The Matrix is comparably simple, too. There is the Mayor’s data fortress and the Virtual Church Vault. Computers make us of archaic screens (monitors). Just so that you have a minor guidance along the trip.

Music: If music is mentioned, then for the option of reading those song-lyrics or listening to legal copies of the song. Some readers could be positively surprised how it can boost atmosphere.

And so it happened that on that fateful day:

Seventeen year old Sonja had accepted the only available Shadowrun of the day. The Johnson’s, Mom&Dad, had insisted that she would sign-up for the solitary mission without hesitation. Get the pick-nick basket, and deliver it safely to Grandma in her forest witch-house, which all must call her beloved hut.

Now our Sonja was not the village mare’s twin. No, besides having the body of a voluptuous porn-star, the skills of a Shadowrunner, and the school grades of a half-genius she had as well common sense. She equipped her Armored Red Hood and the Combat-Shock-Gloves for the totally unexpected chance of encountering villains, or danger.

Sonja was not a Sissy. Her classmates had hacked into the Mayor’s secret database, and besides having spread some money, they had seen the Legend of the Heroes. Henceforth Sonja knew that her Shadowrun had a pretty good start. She had ventured through the village occasionally greeting the working people, or acquaintances.

Then she had made the slight upward curve along the path to the forest. Of course she had not failed to give her smiling regards to Sarah, wife of lumberjack Carlton. And neither had she hesitated to do a small chat with Jacob, who was the Chief-Hunter and Chief-Ranger of the area.

Quite good on her schedule she had reached the secret forest path to Grandma’s beloved hut. It was then that a big black wolf appeared alongside the way! Knowing no limits, and with the proverbial wings of success driving her on, Sonja had juggled a sausage out of the pick-nick basket, and tempted the wolf with it. While the canine beast fed she spoke gentle words to it, and stroke its fur. Oops… that were her good intentions. Sadly though she had been sloppy with the Shock-Gloves during last maintenance session, as she had spied on Abigail from across the road meeting her lover. Teenage priorities after all.

Shock-Gloves were meant to give off an amount of electricity on impact to render potential assailants unconscious. In this unfortunate, and unwanted, case her malfunctioning right glove had given-off the complete dosage for all ten supposed shocks, and the electrified wolf smelled a little bit scorched before its stiffened shape went soft; collapsing. Apologizing to the wolf Sonja had marched on in blissful ignorance, giving no first aid to the agonized beast, as she was quite eager to finish her duty, and deliver the basket to Granny. This irresponsible, and selfish, decision would come back to haunt her though!

Grandma, I came to bring you a gift on this wonderful day!” called Sonja.


The door of the beloved witch-house opened, and Grandma Donna Garibaldi, the former Queen of Palermo and Little Italy; stepped out to greet her dutiful offspring.

Sonja, Dear, what a pleasant surprise! Straight after I threatened to cut your parents off from the money they have decided to send you here, and even with an appeasement gift!”

Sonja never understood those familial remarks of Granny, yet she loved her grandma, and happily handed her the basket.

Oh grandma, wouldn’t it be safer when you live with us in the village? Your isolated homestead is easy prey for burglars, and predatory beasts.”

Pah, its another Home of the Brave, Silly.” Granny replied while quick-drawing her two Ruger handguns.

We can’t just leave the place unguarded. The illegal brewing of alcohol alone earns us a fortune, and as long, as they must fear my wrath, the smugglers won’t cheat us too much.”

Oh Granny.” replied the astonished, and traditionally quite confused; Sonja.

Donna Garibaldi went back into her beloved homestead, and returned soon thereafter with a platter full of coffee (Espresso) and cake (Tiramisu).

Like old people tend to do on occasion she talked on about worries, and plans in her head.

See that field over there? Marihuana does only grow in small numbers, accursed weed. And there! After the cocaine plant rotted away we only have a handful of ephedrine plants left, barely enough to keep the pub running.”

Oh Grandma you are such a wise and god-fearing woman!” proclaimed Sonja, who did not know a more proper word to say.

Donna Garibaldi chuckled. “The holy book? Yes, that was a damn smart coup, though I had help, and boasting is against the Omerta!”

Oh Granny, as soon, as I have graduated at college, we just do it! We get a ship-passage to Italy and visit your sister Omerta?”

As usual the Donna was sure that only if the Devil would possess moon-calf Sonja there could still be any hope left for her.

Sonja had accomplished her Shadowrun, and wanted to return home now. She did bid farewell to her granny, as the sun was sinking, and venturing through the darkness was indeed most unwise!

Blessed woman she was she arrived at home unscathed. Eagerly grabbing her handful of Nuyen for the accomplished Shadowrun, and then returning to her room to do Karma-Point-Spreading Yoga.

Yet the world had not stood still while Sonja, the sadist animal-abuser, had gone unpunished. Eric Dumbson had been one of countless stranded strangers. A former criminal and prison-escapee he had fled into the woods. Just that he was on a special trip. In prison he had read an article about vision quests. Now, years later, he had need for such. He knew to become a Shaman one needed certain Totemic experiences. He knew as well that the own personality was a minor reflection of what kind of totem would be more or less sympathetic to a want-to-be shaman as well. He had restrained from food since yesterday and had washed himself in the cold river waters. Ritually prepared he was on his vision quest when the Spirits gave him a sign.

A blonde teenage harlot in a blasphemously red cloak had lured a wolf with a sausage, and then, faking sympathy, she had electrocuted the poor feeding wolf! Just like the prison wardens had done it to end his psychotic rushes. Just like the prisoners had done it to him, whenever they needed a bitch.

Eric felt spiritual zeal arise within him. He knew what to do now! The Wolf-Cult had been born. Gathering the like-minded, and initiating them into the totemic avengers, Eric Dumbson worked over-shift to fulfill his calling!

  • At first his mob of wolf-crazed ganged-up on the old woman in the witch-house. Overwhelming her easily, plundering, and feasting in the first rush of victory.
  • Second; he had disguised as the old woman, giving a cryptic warning to Sonja when she returned for another delivery.
  • Third; his cult received firearms from the smugglers, who were made an offer they could not deny.

Finally the totemic-crazed assaulted the village, burned down the church, and caused plenty of bloodshed until both sides were pretty decimated, and sick of it. Eric Dumbson and the Priest among the Fallen. Some of the survivors swore that during the aftermath of the slaughter a woman clad in red was seen boarding a ship!

THE END of the base version as excerpt. An extended revision is possible.

Roots remembered; WDC

All rejected my reviews & I still won awards with those!”

As an author I am clearly recognizable, as the type who still has MUCH to learn! My strength lies in the contextual, and my courage to publish in flawed language, and disastrous lack of proper grammar, instead of allowing it to hold me back.

What I am doing here now is more prankster-humor than egomania. I am using my invention, my review-skeleton, to review my own work. This is based on an old hermetic occult note that even losing means one has participated. It was reflected in my:

  • Like with sports it is with spiritual or roleplay – I won’t loose overweight by somebody else doing workouts, I have to do my own!

  • BLUE is part of the Review-Skeleton. Orange is, what I would usually write into it per each individually reviewed file, or ebook.

Self-Skellyfication Review

Review of: Shadowrun – My own Accumulated Mini-Fiction by Andrè M. Pietroschek

Dear Author, dear readers, welcome to my Review-Skeleton, by now revision 1.16, in theory & practice. When I take the time of writing a detailed review, and even my review-skeleton is an investment of thirty to forty minutes per text, then there are reasons for it. Contrary to my own mindset some authors really care about those reasons. Luckily I avoided telling certain ones that I only reviewed, because my favorite-lists were full? 😉 My traditional two main-motives for reviewing are 1: A text is so good, or so deserving of an improvement that I place a review, as all reviews have minor benefits, when compared to not-reviewed authors. 2: A text is so miserable, outright stolen, or disgusting that I refuse to let it go unscathed.

Type of Review (AMP = my whim, Request = paid for it, or Setting = forced by account setting): AMP

Reminder: Never forget that “OMG (Oh my God) U R so good!” has been review enough for thousands of WDC files.

Title: Gone a little bit weird due the term “accumulated”, which would not be used like that by Native-Speakers of English.

Description: COPY: “Yep! Remington Roomsweeper was often a proper symbol for my attitude. Noisy, Vulgar, and leaving an allegorical bloody mess behind us…” Shadowrun returned, but I grew older in the meanwhile. Ex-Street-Warlock sermon… ;->

While your prose brings it to the proverbial point, and you mention the term Shadowrun to identify the product-line, that little bit of prose puts non-roleplayers at a serious disadvantage. Personally I liked that you took a deadly shotgun-pistol, the fictional Remington Roomsweeper, and turned it from violence into mental symbolism.

Generic Hint: Consider that title&description are all, which a reader sees, before deciding, whether to open the file, or not!

Character-Cast: You started with fictional extensions of your own ego, including some surprising personality streaks. Really massive was the number of bindings you managed to place subtly into the “Lone Star Shining” Parts 1 & 2, and I am certain you did that to prove another bunch of your critics wrong. On the bad side you have a habit of being low on human detail with most of your figures. This can spoil the fun of reading for readers, just as you have recognized it with the usage of “omniscient” information. Admittedly though it is true that a Roleplay Gamemaster using such “omniscient” is helping his players to succeed.

Environment: It is clear that you mean the world of Shadowrun. The so-called 6th world. The UCAS are on the North American continent, and most action takes place in the city of Seattle. Still you expect readers to know that at least as good, as you do, and that, once more, sets newbies & non-roleplayers aback.

Story-Flow: Varies, but never excels. ‘Family Affairs’ goes straight to the climax. ‘Trial by Hellfire’ is like a screen-shake. ‘Heart-Wired & Elven-Nightshade’ are lengthy, and slow. ‘Shadow-Friends’ leaves me with a depressed impression. ‘Lone Star Shining’ is deceptive by starting straight, and fast-paced, while full of the mentioned bindings with your stories and figures from them. ‘Totemic Riddle Red Riding Hood’ has no flow, and suffers quality-loss due it.

Format: Everything is better than dishing readers non-formatted text. You seem content with the basics of an amateur, which I consider good enough for web-standards.

Overall Impression: A hobby-author joyfully shares his fiction with all in the world.

Statements about my own first impression, opinion, and evaluation ( Return of the Prose ): You are certainly a creative, prosaic hobby-author with the passion of a fan kept alive. While not everything you write is to my liking I found my access to your fiction; though I must note that this needs the willingness & readiness of each reader to access the good sides of your works. The number of revisions you are crafting, even when not paid at all, shows that you can react to criticism, and that you take care to present your prose. Sadly you remain a minimalist on balancing out your weaknesses in language & grammar. While far from flawless you are definitely an author with an unique prose & style.

Technical Aspects (like Grammar, Punctuation& usage of Commas, or Apostrophes): As noted before: I had been so bombarded with demands, and the academic rules, which seem to legitimate those demands, that I harshly found enough time & health to start improving here myself.

Generic Helpful Link:

For Newbies:

Generic Note: To a degree I trust in nearly any dear authors skill to find & correct the own flaws, and mistakes. My reviews are far from diplomatic masterpieces, yet I am really not your secretary either. It is not my duty to present your mistakes, and shortcomings, to you in the one way, which your egomania may accept as proper. Learn to handle it, or enjoy the future failures you cause yourself.

Generic Note: Please don’t make your replies seem to me, as if provoking a meeting of your face with my hammer is your one & only motive for writing them.

Precious LINK:

😉 OMG! Shadowrun is so good!