Dance Macabre
18th of February 2007 A.D.
Why did the bad guys always end up underground? It was a question I'd asked myself a dozen times and never found the answer to. Maybe it was the opposite of why wizards loved towers so much, I'd have liked one too but getting a penthouse in Chicago requires selling your soul to hell, renting it back and then subletting to them again. Also the spooky not music made of unspeakable silences, always a classic. "Hey Morgan, don't suppose you know how many druids the Council has stacked down here?"
"If I knew what earthly reason would I have to not tell you already," my personal nemesis got out, former personal nemesis I hoped, but it was hard to tell.
"I don't know, maybe you forgot. I forget stuff all the time." Smiling wasn't easy in the murky depths with nothing but the search lights of the War Weavers to break the darkness, but I managed one. Like I might forget all the times you tried to get me killed for Black Magic just to prove your gut's always right if you're going to be less of an asshole.
"I don't, it'd get you killed in this line of work." A long pause followed during which I had been left to wonder if he had seen my offer to bury the hatchet and chosen to bury it in my metaphorical back. "Heads up Dresden, being blind to what's in front of you's even worse."
I may not forget, but I can change my mind if given evidence. At least that's what I hoped he was saying. Alas Morgan was also talking about the damned hole they were in, a fact I was reminded of in that moment by a sudden flash of light up ahead as continuous beams of green-white spellfire carved a path though another mound or rubble to reveal...
Imagine a tomb, a normal kind of Romanesque tomb, alcoves in the wall for lanterns, marble slates lined up to carry the bones, jars of offerings set at the foot of each one. Now imagine everything is covered in blood,
fresh blood, like someone had killed a herd of elephants, and it was starting to melt inwards like wax in front of a candle flame.
Four living wizards hooded and cowled like well... Cowl stood on the edges of the room, but in the middle where the melting was stood another five, skeletal, pulsing red and stretched out like someone had pulled them on a rack. They also had fangs because I guess it was part of the trademark.
"Daughter of Dust why do you come to us?" One of the... things asks as the focus in my hand creaks. I look at my blasting rod to see the polish that had been fresh a moment ago start to peel beneath my eyes.
"Do you bring sacrifices?" Another asks, tilting its head like a poorly made puppet.
"Do you seek boons as your father did?"
"Interesting." The kid was stone-cold-sober, not even blinking like an effigy in marble and antique silver. "And what would my lord father sacrifice to such as you?"
"The father of your true self, not the shade... shade's shade... shade's shade shade..."
The way they repeated the word had the shape of laughter without any of the contents. Don't get me wrong I've heard evil sons of a gun laugh, the kind of evil that makes friends with the devil, but this was somehow worse, not even evil because evil at least wanted.
"You know of whom we speak... The Sage, the Seer, the Master."
"Touching as this little reunion might be, you have been called from your tomb for a purpose, fulfill it!" A half familiar voice commanded. Peabody. For a man who had betrayed everything he ever claimed to serve and believe in he looked surprisingly normal, maybe a little tired around the eyes, like he'd been pulling one too many late nights.
"The Necromancer."
"Ahem," Peabody sounded peeved, not the usual reaction to four Wardens leveling their swords. "Kill me and poor Aleron goes with me, I linked my life force to his. Now of course if any of you feel like unpicking a life weave where the merest error could kill, you are welcome to attempt it."
My eyes darted to not-quite Molly... who was nodding. Nothing was never easy.
Harry decided to?
[] Re-Kill the talking corpses while they were busy trying to tempt the kid to the Dark Side
[] Play Defense, he had been getting better at unmaking enemy spells lately
[] Write in
OOC: The decay aura is the effect of Nihilistics 7: Oblivion's Dance. Whatever you do, the living had better do it quick.