Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

13th of January 2007 A.D.

It's four hours to sunset when the vampires can move, it's almost four hours to sunset and people are still dying outside. There's a temptation, if temptation such an impulse can be called, to set things spinning here and go now, like you did in Cleveland, strike hard, strike fast, strike from two angles, but it just doesn't add up. Absent knowledge of your enemy's plans you don't know how she would react, what else she can call on in the eleventh hour.

"Sunset isn't midnight..." you half whisper the words as you follow Harrowmont to an unremarkable door behind which hides a remarkable room.

It's like some whimsical bibliophile god had taken Bock Ordered Books and compressed it into the space of what must have once been a small teacher's lounge. Shelves climb up to the ceiling dark stained like the study of an old world aristocrat only the edges giving a hint as to the flakeboard hiding underneath, though one cannot really fault the reason those edges are visible: books on every surface that will carry then, heavy leather-bound tomes emblazoned with Latin script, collections a dozen volumes strong aligned like soldiers before battle all in the same uniform, dog eared encyclopedias, holy books from from all around the world.

Even just glancing at the scarce English titles would raise a few eyebrows: The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls: Seventh Edition, Natural Magic by Giambattista della Porta, The Galdrabók: An Icelandic Book of Magic. Latin titles that you could probably still read with a bit of focus mingle on the shelves with the familiar-strange shape of Greek lettering, the flowing artistry of Arabic script and other even more obscure tongues.

Between the books are trinkets, candles, carved bones and half-assembled apparatuses that might be arcane trinkets, desk toys or as you judge a bit of both. A slow fan, slightly askew moves above casting the contents of the room into streaks of light and dark.

Though thresholds have no power over you still you pause in the door to call the others over which gives Harrowmont time to turn around and clap causing a lantern on the desk overshadowed by all the other contents of the room to suddenly burst into tongues of flame cold blue burnt orange... and the precise green of your anima.

"Well that is a good sign, complementary colors," your host offers with a smile. "Be welcome travelers into my humble abode."

The goblin's stomach makes a loud growling sound, presumably of hunger then he shoots an acknowledgement, probably not the answer he had been looking for so, to compensate, your own thanks err on the side of flowery and esoteric both.


By the time the others arrive, a few minutes late and looking a bit wan on Harry's part from an attempted shooting next to a Wendy's of all places defeated with a lucky veil, the personal library had been converted into occult laboratory: the carpet kicked aside to reveal a pair of concentric summoning circles false panels slid aside to reveal secret compartments filled with yet more trinkets, personal notebooks and books with blank covers.

"Come, come one and all, there is much work to be done and I fear little time in which to do it. The fate of this city, nay this country hangs now in the scales of fate and the fortune we might wrest from the world."

Harry opens his mouth, most likely to snark and you are not the only one to think to. Tiffany elbows him on the way in as she extends her hand: "Tiffany MacNeil, healer and scholar of Enochian."

Normally when a man is struck dumb at the sight of your companion you assume it is her looks, but from his expression on hearing the last word she might as well have the looks of the cyclops Polyphemus. "Truly?"

"Oh we are going to get along just fine," Lash's smile broadens to something telling indeed. "Hypothetically Doctor Harrowmont...?"

"Just plain Alexander Harrowmont for the moment, I don't have my doctor's degree as of yet madam," he interjects flattered and not caring who notices it.

She nods, continuing smoothly. "If I had a means to provide greater mental clarity at the cost of potentially straining the body would you take it?"

Alexander Harrowmont opens his mouth, but seems to recall the other company he has before he can speak, looking instead to Harry, more specifically to Harry's grey cloak.

"It might give you the worst headache of your life but that's about the worst of it, assuming you can stay conscious," the wizard explains, looking a little awkward himself, not that someone who isn't familiar with him would be able to tell. When Harry's awkward he tends to scowl more with makes the crease between his brows... Focus Molly.

Tiffany has access to mental enhancement (MANIPULATE FLESH) which can improve all mental stats, without cutting into her limited supply of Faith. Who takes advantage of it and how many times to you roll?

If someone is knocked out Tiffany can heal them with RESTORE FLESH, but that costs 1 Faith Point to use (Current Faith2/3)

[] Molly

[] Lydia

[] Tiffany

[] Adkin (Stamina ●)

[] Harrowmont (Stamina ●●)

[] Harry (Stamina ●●●)

OOC: I was tempted to roll through this, but if I made the wrong call on Harrowmont and then Tiffany rolls too high the whole plan goes down the drain or at the very least you lose the faith you could use for nerve gas immunity later.