An Ill Timed Call
9th of July 2006 A.D.
"How little, he knows, how foolish his courage to think that death is the worst fate that might be visited upon him, In the Night Realm where the bed of all is stone, where fire is false hope that burns without warmth, where the springs of the earth are a lie, where dawn newer comes. Oh such are the horrors that would make him beg for eternity as the puppet of his deathlord," Usum's voice weaves its way though your thoughts with visions of icy hell. Cold is the certainty that the threat would not be hollow forever, that come day you might find the black key to that realm and dispose of the souls of whoever you wish into that realm with a touch or a kiss. There is no god but God and only his judgement may decide the fate of souls, you hang on to that truth, but it feels
thin, like a child hiding under a table with her eyes closed. I shouldn't be able to spy on angels either and yet I was asked not to.
Lost 1 Essence
Just because I can do something doesn't mean I should... and just because I can say something does not mean I should speak either. What would your dad think if you gave a loving description of the horrors of hell and how Gorfel belonged there? What would Harry? More seriously if he does end up being interrogated by others on the Council do you want them to know how intimate your understanding of Yomi Wan is?
Though the bit about puppets does give you an idea. "This Kemmler must have been really impressive, I mean he still has you by the leash forty years after his final death. What did he do, tell you how special you were when you were a good boy, or was the prospect of him maybe throwing scraps of power your way enough to keep you begging?"
"We are not his slaves," the old man answers, needled. "We served willingly, knowingly a man whom even death bowed to, we walked the Whispering Way."
"You provided a great store of... somewhat talented corpses and specters for Kammler to devour at his leisure," you reply with your best condescending smile. "I
do hope you didn't just move on to some new leader. I would say dogging his steps, but that might be insulting to Mouse over there."
For his part Mouse tips his head quizzically as if not sure what to make of your antics, Harry looks a little more perturbed while your dad keeps his eyes firmly on Gorfel himself in case he tries something. The monks oddly enough do not look the least surprised.
"Kaiser was it?" you push a little more. "Your new lord and master who will rule ten thousand years."
"Bah," the sorcerer sneers. "Is that what you think we are girl? A worm's eye view, fit for brutes and blunt instruments. Do you really think I would share true nature and purpose of our brotherhood with their like. We dwell wherever there is darkness and in darkness we find our friends, we rebel against the clay-footed tyranny of powers which cling to the status quo of a crumbling world. Do you not see it with those frost-touched eyes. Everywhere talents arise from the churning tides of humanity, too many to bind, too many to contain. The dam is brreaking and the White Council has no other plan but to try to plug the holes with their hands." Eyes narrowed with malice he looks to Harry. "The Red Court makes for an excellent hammer, but it is only the most obvious... the most distracting."
"And then you assholes will rise up and inherit the earth." The sarcasm practically drips off Harry's words. "You know generally the Nazis build a giant space laser before they go on about that. They aren't usually the ones tied up during the monologue either."
"It is only my hands that are tied fool!" the sorcerer snaps. "Your very power is bound by those who would use the might denied you for their own ends!"
You could cut the silence with a knife. The implication that people in charge of the White Council, the Senior Council were using Black Magic is clear as it is horrifying and from the expression on Gorfel's face it is
not one he had wanted to reveal. You can feel the weight of the secret coiling in your soul like the light of the rising sun revealing the world.
Gain 2 Essence
Before Harry can say another word a knock rings on the door, then another. "Chicago Police Department, open up Dresden or we're coming in!" With a lurch in your stomach you recognize Detective Greene.
That is when Gorfel sees his chance, his power a sudden pal on the air, while all of you are distracted... or almost all of you.
Whatever he had meant to do is put to a swift end as the flat of Amoracchius's blade strikes his cheek. If he had been purely mortal the blow might have done enough damage to need an ambulance or worse, but as is it simply puts out his lights again before the dark spirit bound within him can mend his wounds.
"Go, into the bedroom I'll keep them busy!" Harry whispers urgently.
The monks are already moving and your dad has the sorcerer, but you are not so sure. "What if he has a search warrant?"
"I'll hold him off somehow, go," he insists.
You hesitate between taking his word for it and recalling Lasciel's accounting about how he sacrifices himself for others. Could you get Greene to back off? You could probably scare the daylights out of him, but that
would come back to haunt you.
What do you do?
[] Follow the others into the bedroom
[] Stay and help Harry
-[] Write in stunt, optional
[] Write in
OOC: Turns out that gun was loud enough... and maybe something more. 
