Due the Dead
19th of February 2007 A.D.
Thus the midnight hour tolls over Paris, fortuitously late you lead against one of the ancient walls, shaking a little from the exertion, feeling empty in a way that has nothing to do with food. "We did it... we actually did it..." the words are softer than one might prefer, nothing of the cold confidence with which you had told off Drusus for his missing, or argued with an angel. Still can't quite believe I did that. As the senior wizards work to take apart the half rotted tethers of the Labyrinth there's nothing you want more than to get back to Edinburgh and make sure everyone is safe, but in the aftermath of the battle and the return of the missing Gatekeeper and Martha Liberty, both with grim news that will be spoken of when next the full Council can meet to discuss the events of the day, there is still one more urgent matter to handle as Lydia's expectant expression shows.
Thankfully none of the wizards passing through with questions, news and offers of tiny French chocolates with odd names can guess. After all the White Council rather frowns on Necromancy in general and of its members in particular.
The door to the staff-side tunnels clicks rather resentfully as if the walls here to not appreciate having the dead brought backstage at the macabre show that the catacombs had been made into. In the silver light of your friend's soul three strangers stand, slouch and sit: Maria Sanchez is a young woman whose face reminds you of the casts you had seen of ancient Mayan temple walls marred by a vicious knotted slash of her death wound, lightning or fire, though it does little to detract from the attention with which she follows you around the sparse room. Albert Walpole on the other hand is a well-named beanpole of a man, maybe as much as a decade older than you, though it's hard to tell with how he's slouching. He seems embarrassed to be dead, or maybe to have been snared by the conspiracy to begin with. Either way it's hard to focus on his mumbled greeting when the last of the fallen, one Anurak Liu can't stop asking questions about everything from their present state, to the battle to who the two of you are, faster than Lydia can answer. To be fair he is a wizard.
"My name is Molly Carpenter and I run an afterlife..." People have an inclination to make light of death almost equal to their fear of it, perhaps because of their fear of it. Today you learn that is true on both sides of death. All three of them laugh.
As you explain, as best you can your hopes for incarnating them, if not though the natural processes of the Wheel, Sanctuary had never seen an unquiet spirit, there's no telling how it would react, then though techno-sorcerous integration. When you come right down to it a spirit is a spirit and the human form isn't that hard to mimic with bio-mechanical parts, like building implants, only more of them and without having to implant them into anything, crossed with the construction of something like a War Weaver.
"Excuse me, what would be
owe you for our new lease of life assuming you can manage it?" Liu asks, a sharper question than those before.
"Could we return to Earth, would the Council be informed of what's become of us? Some of us have families?" Sanchez asked... and that is when you remembered where you had heard that name before, one of the three unintended warlocks had been 'Carmen Sanchez'. From the relative ages you guess sisters or cousins. Maybe she's even the reason why the woman in front of you is a ghost. What a mess... what a sad sorry mess.
Can I make it better? The question and the dangers is presents taunt you.
[] They may come and go as they please, you'll smooth things out with the council as soon as you know if this will work
[] Given all the other offers you have to make to the White Council it would be best not to share this for the time being
[] Write in
OOC: And we are back. Enjoy guys 
