Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

@DragonParadox
QUESTION
1)Would a church confer any protection?
I know it did against the Nightmare in canon; a girl taking refuge in St Mary's couldn't be reached by the Nightmare

2) Do we know where Michael is supposed to be this morning?
 
[X] Follow Lara's suggestion, once the spy is dead he is under Lydia's domain more than that of his master in life
 
Edit: Changing my vote to Party Animal.

Not really that enthused about it but let's try to save whoever this poor bastard is. In Dresdenverse, Karma is a real thing.
 
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Okay, Im back. Done a little math, and a little refresher.

The Raith Estate is in a northern Chicago suburb.
Roughly 30 minutes from inner Chicago in the Blue Beetle, which means we can probably cut that time in half with Black Rider.
Lakeside of Lake Michigan, at least a half mile of estate between the walls and the road.
Wooded, pools. Armed security in excess of 3 dozen people. Medics.

Citations:
"True," I said. "Where else could we go?"
"My family's house."
"You all live in Chicago?"
"Of course not," Lara said, her voice tired. "But we keep houses in several cities around the world. Thomas has been in and out of Chicago for the past two or three years, between resort vacations. Justine is at the house, waiting for him."
"Inari will need a doctor."
"I have one," she said. Then added, "On retainer."
I stared at her in my rearview mirror for a moment (in which she appeared like anyone else) and then shrugged. "Which way?"
"North along the lake," she said. "I'm sorry. I don't know the street names. Turn right at the light ahead."
She gave directions and I followed them, and I reminded myself that it would be a bad habit to form. It took us better than half an hour to get up to one of the wealthy lakeside developments that just about any large body of water makes inevitable. I'd seen several such developments during the course of my investigations, but the area Lara directed me to was as elaborate and expensive-looking as any I had ever seen.
The house we finally pulled up to had multiple wings, multiple stories, and a couple of faux-castle turrets. It had cost someone eight digits,
and could have doubled as the headquarters of the villain in a James Bond movie. Old timber had grown up around it, and was manicured into an idyllic forest of rolling, grass-green hummocks and beautiful, shapely trees wreathed in ivy and autumn leaves. Small lit pools were dotted here and there, each shrouded with its own low cloud of evening mist.
The drive rolled through Little Sherwood for better than half a mile, and I started feeling nervous. If anything tried to kill me, I was too far away from the road to run for help.
Or even to scream for it. I shook my wrist to hear the jangle of the little silver shields on my bracelet, and made sure it was ready to go at an instant's notice.
Lara's pale grey eyes regarded me in the rearview mirror for a moment, and then she said, "Dresden, you and my brother have nothing further to fear from me this night. I will respect our truce, and extend guest rights to you while you are in my family's home. And I do so swear it."
==
SNIP
==
I promised myself that the second anything got dicey I would blast my way out of that house through the nearest wall, incinerating first and asking questions later. It wouldn't be the subtlest escape in the whole world, but I was pretty sure the Raiths could afford to repair the damages. I wondered if vampires had any trouble getting homeowner's insurance.
I pulled the Blue Beetle around the circular drive in front of Chateau Raith. Its engine shuddered, coughed, and finally died before I could shut it down. A sidewalk swept between a pair of vicious-looking stone gargoyles four feet high, and led through a rose garden bedded with pure white gravel.
The rose vines were old ones, some of them as thick as my thumb. Their spreading tendrils twined all around the entirety of the garden and over the feet of the crouching gargoyles
. The lighting was all arranged in soft blues and greens, and it made the roses on the vines look black. Thick leaves grew all over the vines, but here and there I could see the wicked needle tips of larger-than-average thorns. The air was filled with their light, heady scent.
Chateau Raith hadn't changed much since my last visit. That's one of the good things about dealing with nigh-immortals. They tend to adjust badly to change and avoid it wherever possible.
It was a big place, north of the city, where the countryside rolls over a surprising variety of terrain—flat stretches of rich land that used to be farms, but are mostly big, expensive properties now. Dozens of little rivers and big creeks have carved hills and valleys more steep than most people expect from the Midwest. The trees out in that area, one of the older settlements in the United States, can be absolutely huge, and it would cost me five or six years' worth of income to buy even a tiny house.
Chateau Raith is surrounded by a forest of those enormous, ancient trees, as if someone had managed to transplant a section of Sherwood Forest itself from Britain. You can't see a thing of the estate from any of the roads around it. I knew it was at least a half-mile run through the trees before you got to the grounds, which were enormous in their own right.
Translation: You weren't getting away from the chateau on foot speed alone. Not if there were vampires there to run you down.
There was one new feature to the grounds. The eight-foot-high stone wall was the same, but it had been topped with a double helix of razor wire, and lighting had been spaced along the outside of the wall. I could see security cameras at regular intervals as well. The old Lord Raith had disdained the more modern security precautions in favor of the protection of intense personal arrogance. Lara, however, seemed more willing to acknowledge threats, to listen to her mortal security staff, and to employ the countermeasures they suggested. It would certainly help keep the mortal riffraff out, and the Council had plenty of mortal allies.

More important, it said something about Lara's administration: She found skilled subordinates and then listened to them. She might not look as overwhelmingly confident as Lord Raith had—but then, Lord Raith wasn't running the show anymore, either, even if that wasn't public knowledge in the magical community.
I reflected that it was entirely possible that I might have done the Council and the world something of a disservice by helping Lara assume control. Lord Raith had been proud and brittle. I had the feeling that Lara would prove to be far, far more capable and far more dangerous as the de facto White King.
And here I was, about to go to her aid again and help solidify her power even more.
"Stop here," I told Molly quietly. The gates to the chateau were still a quarter mile down the road. "This is as close as you get."
"Right," Molly said, and pulled the Beetle over—onto the far side of the road, I noted with approval, where anyone wanting to come to her would have to cross the open pavement to get there.
"Mouse," I said. "Stay here with Molly and listen for us. Take care of her."
Mouse looked unhappily at me from the backseat, where he'd sat with Ramirez, but leaned forward and dropped his shaggy chin onto my shoulder. I gave him a quick hug and said in a gruff voice, "Don't worry; we'll be fine."
His tail thumped once against the backseat, and then he shifted around to lay his head on Molly's shoulder. She immediately started scratching him reassuringly behind the ear, though her own expression was far from comfortable.
"This is not how diplomacy is done," Anastasia said as we approached the Château Raith.
"You're in America now," I said. "Our idea of diplomacy is showing up with a gun in one hand and a sandwich in the other and asking which you'd prefer."
Anastasia's mouth curved up at one corner. "You brought a sandwich?"
"Who do I look like, Kissinger?"
I'd been to Château Raith before, but it had always been at night, or at least twilight. It was an enormous estate most of an hour away from Chicago proper, a holding of House Raith, the current ruling house of the White Court. The Château itself was surrounded by at least half a mile of old-growth forest that had been converted to an idyllic, even gardenlike, state, like you sometimes see on centuries-old European properties. Huge trees and smooth grass beneath them dominated, with the occasional, suspiciously symmetrical outgrowth of flowering plants, often located in the center of golden shafts of sunlight that came down through the green-shadowed trees at regular intervals.
The grounds were surrounded by a high fence, topped with razor wire that couldn't be readily seen from the outside. The fence was electrically charged, too, and the latest surveillance cameras—seemingly little more than glass beads with wires running out of them—monitored every inch of the exterior.

At night, it made for one extremely creepy piece of property. On a bright summer afternoon, it just looked . . . pretty. Very, very wealthy and very, very pretty. Like the Raiths themselves, the grounds were only scary when seen at the right time.

A polite security guard with the general bearing of ex-military had watched us get out of a cab, called ahead, and let us in with hardly a pause. We'd walked past the gate and up the drive through Little Sherwood until we reached the Château proper.

===
SNIP
===
"Ground zero?" Anastasia muttered out of the corner of her mouth. "A trifle melodramatic, don't you think?"
I answered her in a similar fashion. "I was going to go with 'three feet from where they'll find your body,' but I figured that would have made it too personal. He's just doing his job."
She shook her head. "Is there some reason this can't be a civil visit?"
"Lara's at her most dangerous when everyone's being civil," I said. "She knows it. I don't want her feeling comfortable. It'll be easier to get answers out of her if she's worried about all hell breaking loose."
"It might also be easier to question her if we aren't worried about it," Anastasia pointed out. "She does hold the advantage here. One notes that there is fairly fresh plaster on the walls on either side of us, for instance."
I checked. She was right. "So?"
"So, if I was the one preparing to defend this place, I think I might line the walls with antipersonnel mines wired to a simple charge and cover them in plaster until I needed them to remove a threat too dangerous to engage directly."

I'd personally seen what an AP mine could do to human bodies. It wasn't pretty. Imagine what's left of a squirrel when it gets hit with large rounds from a heavy-gauge shotgun. There's not much there but scraps and stains. It's essentially the same when a human gets hit with a load of ball bearings the size of gumballs that spew from an AP mine. I glanced at either wall again. "At least I was right," I said. "Ground zero."
Anastasia smiled faintly. "I just thought I'd mention the possibility. There's a fine line between audacity and idiocy."
"And if she thinks she's in danger, Lara might just detonate them now," I said. "Preemptive self-defense."
"Mmmm. Generally the favored method for dealing with practitioners. The customs of hospitality would have protected us from her as much as her from us."
I thought about that for a second and then shook my head. "If we were all calm and polite, she'd never give away anything. And she won't kill us. Not until she finds out what we know."
She shrugged. "You could be right. You've dealt with the smart, scary bitch more often than me."
"I guess we'll know in a minute."
A minute later, we were still there, and the security guy reappeared. "This way, please," he said.
We followed him through the wealthy splendor of the house. Hardwood floors. Custom carved woodworking. Statues. Fountains. Suits of armor. Original paintings, one of them a van Gogh. Stained-glass windows. Household staff in formal uniform. I kept expecting to come across a flock of peacocks roaming the halls, or maybe a pet cheetah in a diamond-studded collar.
After a goodly hike, the guard led us to a wing of the house that had, apparently, been converted to corporate office space. There were half a dozen efficient-looking people working in cubicles. A phone with a digital ring tone chirruped in the background. Copiers wheezed. In the background, a radio played soft rock.
We went past the office, down a short hall past a break room that smelled of fresh coffee, and to the double doors at the end of the hallway. The guard held open one of the doors for us, and we went inside, to an outer office complete with a secretary's desk manned by a stunning young woman.
By Justine, in fact, her white hair held back in a tail, wearing a conservative grey pantsuit.
Lara took charge of the aftermath. A dozen security guards were dead, another dozen maimed and crippled. The walls in the hallway where the guards had sprung their ambush were so covered in blood that it looked like they had been painted red. At least a dozen more personnel hadn't been able to reach the battle before it was over, it had all happened so swiftly—which meant that there was someone available to help stabilize the wounded and clean up the bodies.
I sort of shambled up one floor and down a wing to the Château's infirmary, escorted there by a guard who was being very careful not to limp on a wounded leg. The skinwalker had smacked my bean against hardwood and knocked something loose. I felt fairly confident that if I jumped up and down and wiggled my head, my brain would slosh squishily around the inside of my skull.
Not that I was going to be doing any of those things. Walking was hard enough.
In the infirmary, I found a white-coated young woman tending to the wounded. She moved with the brisk professional manner of a doctor, and was just finishing seeing to Justine's injuries. The young woman was laid out on a bed, her midsection swathed in bandages, her eyes glazed with the distant, peaceful expression of someone on good drugs.
Anastasia sat on the bed next to Justine's, her back straight, her expression calm. Her right arm was bound up close against her body in a black cloth sling. She came to her feet as I entered the room. She looked a little pale and shaky, but she stood without leaning on her slender wooden staff. "We're leaving now?"

The important things for our purposes,
=Armed security force
=Live-in physician on-site.
=On-site clinic where both Justine and Luccio were treated after the naagloshii attack in Turn Coat.
=Lots of water
=Solitude and isolation, so that a serious fight doesnt harm civilians or attract the authorities

So somewhere to get this man to for medical attention without having to spend limited HP potions.
And somewhere we can cut loose in response to offense without having to worry about a fight
 
Mkay. Got any plan to go with that?

I felt kinda bad throwing these sort of shit to Harry so any alternative would be nice.
I was trying to figure out whether it would have been better to go to St Mary's, which as consecrated ground should keep a corrupted god out. Or, alternatively, Lydia's place, which is also warded.
But ultimately, I think the Raith estate is the best place to potentially throw a Halloween party.

Gimme half an hour to write a stunt.
 
VOTE
[X]Plan Party Animal
-[X]Try to get the spy under wards
-[X] Lara's place, nothing quite like dealing with a cannibalistic cosmic abomination to bring new allies together
-[X] Thomas, Molly, Lara, Lydia and the captive get into Black Rider and head for the Raith estate.
-[X] Thomas drives with Rider's assist, Lara and Lydia guard the captive in the backseat, Molly rides shotgun so she can fly out the window to defend if they come under attack.
-[X] Molly: Call Harry and Michael, update them both
-[X] Lydia: Call Cauldron to keep their heads down
-[X] Clippy: Alert Jade Dogs and other at-risk associates
-[X] Cyberdevils: Cross reference captive's face against missing person's reports
-[X] Warn Murphy as we promised to do, and Gard just in case.
-[X] STUNT: The sleek form of Black Rider's chassis pulls up to the curb as you emerge from the service entrance, shield flat against your leg as you scan the area, then lead the way at a brisk pace. Thomas comes behind you, shoulder propping up the barely-conscious form of the watcher as Lydia and Lara bring up the rear. You stand guard, eyes and senses repeatedly sweeping the area as they strap the captive into the back, plug his ears and blindfold him before getting in, only stopping when Thomas straps himself into the driver's seat, a moment before you follow suit. "Thomas, floor it." Resting your shield against your knee as the car peels out, you pull out your phone with a sigh, meeting Lara's eyes in the passenger mirror."Okay, cliff notes. A skinwalker is a...."


RATIONALE
The Raith place is much better suited for a potential fight with a celestial abomination of pain and terror.

More than half a square mile of woodland, lots of water for BSM and Rendered Villain Dispersal, beachfront access to Lake Michigan. Plus, they have a doctor and medical facilities on-site for dealing with the Watcher's injuries, which Dresden's flat does not have.

The important things for our purposes,
=Armed security force
=Live-in physician on-site.
=On-site clinic where both Justine and Luccio were treated after the naagloshii attack in Turn Coat.
=Lots of water
=Solitude and isolation, so that a serious fight doesnt harm civilians or attract the authorities

So somewhere to get this man to for medical attention without having to spend limited HP potions.
And somewhere we can cut loose in response to offense without having to worry about a fight

And if it was 30 minutes to get there with Dresden's Blue Beetle driving sedately, we can cut that time in half, or possibly by two thirds in a Mercedes CLS driven by a possessing cyberdevil thats been told to floor it and fuck the speed limits. Rush hour should be over, so we can burn rubber.
 
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Yes we do.
I didn't include Charity because Im assuming Michael will keep her up to date.
I'd have suggested Harry keep Mouse with him, but I dont want to micromanage an adult dude who is presumably competent.
 
-[X] Rider drives with Thomas' assist, Lara and Lydia guard the captive in the backseat, Molly rides shotgun so she can fly out the window to defend if they come under attack.
In terms of raw Dexterity I would maybe ask Lara to drive?
She almost certainly has the highest dicepool of the party, just from the passive Celerity-bonus.

Even if she is not a good driver, Rider assisting might help.
But at the baseline we want her, or at least Thomas' pool.
 
I find the idea of going fast in a big city 12 o'clock traffic pretty unbelievable.
Chicago morning rush hour appears to be 6am to 8am.
Our meeting was scheduled for 9am, and so its well past the bulk of rush hour now.
Add cyberdevil running the car and allowed to run lights when its safe.

In terms of raw Dexterity I would maybe ask Lara to drive?
She almost certainly has the highest dicepool of the party, just from the passive Celerity-bonus.

Even if she is not a good driver, Rider assisting might help.
But at the baseline we want her, or at least Thomas' pool.
Raw Dex, sure. But what's her Drive rating? As far as I know, she doesnt appear to drive.
As in, literally never seen her do it in canon. Dresden drives her home in Blood Rites in the Blue Beetle when Thomas and Inari are injured; she doesnt have a car around.

We dont know how much Celerity she has, or how it works for Whampires.
She definitely cant run Celerity for a quarter of an hour, if I recall how it works correctly. Nor should she be burning juice when there's a skin walker on the way; she's going to need it.

Thomas at least I know drives a variety of vehicles, from boats to cars. Up to a Hummer iirc.
He's probably not going to be better at this than Black Rider, because Rider is literally the car, which either counts for additional dice or much reduced DCs or both. Plus reaction times.
I am deeply disappointed that there doesn't seem to be a Infernal charm for that.
Steal one from Shards of the Exalted Dream.
Or buy Conveyance.
 
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