CHATEAUGAY LAKE STEAMBOAT GAZETTE CO.

Weaving the Windigo with Coyote’s Grin

Eons ago, when dreamtime and reality were one, a mischievous spirit named Wendigo whispered secrets to the Adirondack winds. Now, in the iron lung of 1899, a new breed of Wendigo stirs. Chateaugay Lake, a mirrored whisper of the Great Spirit, reflects a cracked clocktower – a monument to stolen time. Here resides Cinatha Aubay, a woman who dances with lightning and bends the aether to her will.

Cinatha, the Clockwork Medicine Woman

Some whisper “mad scientist,” others mutter “witch.” But Cinatha scoffs at their ignorance. She is a cunning trickster, a weaver of cogs and coils. Her clocktower, a mechanical monstrosity clawing at the sky, is a tesla coil whispering to the stars. It hums with the stolen breath of the universe, a power that both seduces and devours.

Tesla Walks In, Reality Wobbles

One day, the metallic footsteps of modernity echo on the lakeshore. Agent Tesla, a man with eyes that hold the glint of both progress and paranoia, arrives with his team of Edison spooks. Rumors of temporal tears and clockwork creatures have reached their ears. They are reality’s shepherds, here to wrangle the chaos Cinatha has unleashed.

Clockwork Chaos and Aetheric Anarchy

Tesla’s men, shadows against the moonlit lake, stumble upon Cinatha’s domain. Gears gnash, sparks fly, and clockwork monstrosities lumber to life – testaments to Cinatha’s ambition and the corrupting influence of the stolen time. The battle becomes a whirlwind dance – wrench against claw, bullet against aetheric beam. The very fabric of reality groans under the strain.

The Trickster Wins (For Now)

Tesla, with a grimace and a prayer to forgotten gods of electricity, manages to sever the flow of stolen time. The clocktower shudders, its mechanical heart sputtering to a halt. But Cinatha, like smoke through a keyhole, vanishes. The victory tastes like ash in Tesla’s mouth. He knows this is but a chapter, not the end, of the Wendigo’s chrono-game.

The Everlasting Dance

The world spins on, oblivious to the battle between the new and the old magic. But beneath the surface, a storm brews. The Wendigo of time waits, its hunger for stolen moments never satiated. Tesla and his ilk are but temporary custodians, forever chasing the echo of a trickster’s laugh in the Adirondack winds. The conspiracy continues…