A Maze Mailcious
18th of February 2007 A.D.
After the old wizard finishes talking you unfold the Dark Sun as you exchange a silent mental conference with Sophia and Lydia, relying on Sophia to relay on to the rest of the party even as she spills some more water on herself. 'Now?' you catch his eye, needing neither telepathy nor sign language, some things are universal... like that grin. You move.
Once down the stairs you catch your first glimpse of the pair of wardens, they have to be related by the similarity in build and cast, though it's hard guess given both of them are wrapped up more than the Parisian winter requires. Past the black scarf and hood the freckled skin seems particularly pale, the eyes so bright as to be feverish. All this you see at a run, all in the flash of an instant down corridor not twenty feet long, for all you know it might be an extended coat rack. Tonight it's a box of screams that beat against your ears and near enough a tomb.
Two pairs of hands clap together, faster than even you can close the distance as the stones bulge inwards, stone made to recall the elasticity of its birth.
Where they use magic you are magic, your soul spilling out into the ancient stones and making them in part
a part of you.
Why then would they crush you?
"What the...?"
To their credit both wizards have kinetic shields, enough to entirely deflect Lydia's blows and even to hold off Sophia, more than halfway into her draconic form. But shields at least at their level of skill can only cover a a limited area. Two tranquilizing darts fabricated of esoteric polymers not quite of this earth slam one into a shoulder, the other into the stomach of an enchanted wizard and that's their night.
"Luccio would have felt that," McCoy says as he comes down the steps. "No idea if she'll come back or send someone to check. Knowing her she would do that last bit, but it's not just her behind the reigns tonight." For the first time since he had showed up in Chicago with grim news he sounds old, or maybe just tired. There are some things no amount of wizardry can wipe away.
The path ahead is straight and at least to begin with plenty of overhead space, and ventilation from above, though the electric lights had long since failed it is child's play to project as much light as you want ahead and behind the party. You may be wandering though the milestones of old Lutetia, but you are in Sanctuary too.
It's only when you realize the pale stone turns inky black that swallows all light save yours that you realize quite what part of Sanctuary you are projecting: the Labyrinth.
"Why'd you stop?" Harry asks, looking around for some danger.
"Just capitalized something in my head," you say the first thing that pops into your head. It is a credit who how used wizards are to dealing with weird, or maybe how used these wizards are to dealing with your weird in particular that no one presses while you're distracted.
"Why would I be projecting that part of myself in here Usum?"
"An affinity, mystery and revelation..." the demon hesitates.
"Hell also. Someone has worked hard to embed those concepts into the very stone."
"And the monster at it's heart?" you ask.
Maybe the Hollow Man's getting tired of losing and feels like a gamble? One can hope at least.
Usum guesses your thoughts. How could he not, he's in them?
"I do not think this is recent or an attempt to emerge into this layer of being do to battle. This place was carefully constructed to wear away the mind of mortal wizards, to bend them to certain conclusions favorable to its architect. The only reason they do not feel any pressure on their minds is your magnanimous presence."
"That's why he wanted the Merlin here," you spit between clenched teeth. After you explain what you had figured out to a horrified audiance McCoy looks even grimmer than ever. He might end up having to kill a friend.
"A Labyrinth has to have a solution though," Harry speaks up. "That's what makes it a maze and not just a prison. If getting lost is listening to the monster the way getting eaten was back un Ye Olde Crete, what's winning?"
If things were less grave you'd be rolling your eyes at the 'Ye Olde' As is... "Coming out stronger than you were?" Even as you say the words you realize they are too vague and too small for what's likely on offer here. The Law of Reciprocity holds. If the price of failure is damnation than the reward for success has to be equally transformative... and you just walked into this with a Starborn wizard. If anyone could win a challenge set by a servant of the Old Ones it would be him.
"We are shutting this down after tonight," Lydia says, one hand on the long bones set into an alcove, uncounted dead, their names at most half-remembered if not entirely lost.
Harry looks at his old master, the question in his eyes clear as day.
"I think it's a damn stupid idea even with a safety line, I also think you're a man grown and can take your own risks Hoss."
For once Harry Dresden is quiet, no quip or smartass saying.
"I would try it, but I have been repeatedly informed I am more risk prone than most," Lydia pipes up.
What does Molly think?
[] Harry should take the risk, listen to the whispers of the Hollow Man's maze in the hopes of solving it. If things look dicey you can extend your influence over him again
[] Harry should not take te risk, he's had enough trouble tonight with assholes targeting his mind
[] Write in
OOC: When I designed this place I was not expecting you to walk into it already in Shintai with King and Kingdom, one of the few things that can drown it out, but here we are... and Harry is considering putting his soul on the line by stepping out of said protection. Partly this is because of all the good he might be able to do with insights into the Old Ones that their servants do not want him to have and partly because Harry Dresden is not above the lure of power.