Green Flame Rising (Exalted vs Dresden Files)

[DragonParadox]

Green Flame Rising ​

There was only darkness all about that guttered the light, there had been pain and there had been suffering and before the mind's eye a thousand terrors danced and cavorted, the monster under the bed, the emptiness in the stomach of a child left too long in a strange place, the pain in your ankle from when you had fallen from the tree when you were seven...

The tree... the tree.... it pierced you and it cut you, flesh and bone mind and spirit

Somewhere far away it was cold, somewhere far away someone was screaming it was you. You are Margaret Katherine Amanda Carpenter by the name your parents gave you, by your own will you are a magician, a twister of minds and breaker of lives. It had shown you the fears that went beyond fears and all you could do was scream and scream and scream at the horror of what you had done, of what you had become, You had long since stopped screaming for help and all that was left to you was to scream just to hear your own voice, to know that you were real. It loved to hear you scream, the Scarecrow, the monster, it was here crooning to you in its broken-rusted nails voice, it would be here forever it said.

Then the ice screamed as well, black ice to red flame screaming and the hell of ice was filled with wrath at the sight of those passed into it, one was Harry Dresden, and he was filled with magic and with flame that burned clean, with the wrath of the righteous and the other was your mother as you had never seen her before, armored in steed with mail and helm... and yet as you had always known her, your mother come to drive away the nightmares.

"Mom" you try to speak, but your voice had been broken, all you could do was scream in the silence

"Hi," said the wizard, with reckless daring. "Who the hell are you?"

"One who has served the Queen of Air and Darkness since before your kind can remember," the thing replied. "One who has destroyed hundreds like you."

And so they bantered the wizard and the dark spirit of the cold, they threatened and they snapped and all the while your mother was sneaking closer while the burning eyes of the scarecrow and for the first time since it had dragged you here you felt hope.

"Mom..." the word escapes your lips.

You did not mean to say it, you did not mean to ruin everything again... again, but you did and the thing heard and it grabbed your mother by the throat with its impossible spindly strength and it threw her against the wall of ice. The sound of breaking bones echoes in the cold dark.

Flame roars out of the rune-carved stick in Harry's hand, golden bright like the summer morning, but the Scarecrow is ready, it waves a shield of shadows and of the killing cold, of the jabbering voices of its kin and of the screams it had torn from you. The spear of fire glances aside onto a another tree, greater by far than the one to which you had been lashed. Black it was and shot though with veins of ghostly green

Your eyes stay on it only for a moment because the Scarecrow had jumped on the wizard, too fast to dodge, too strong for the winds to cast aside. It was choking him, like it had choked you to bring you to this place, it would put him on a tree, and then your mother and all of you would scream forever and ever and ever.

The sound of fighting echoes though the broken gate, someone else had come with them... maybe they would maybe they would get up here. "Please, someone, anyone help," you beg, you pray and you do not even care who is listening

There is fire again from the broken tree, but this one is not gold, but poison green and it roars towards you at the speed of a scream. With bloodiedlips you smile. At least you won't be cold anymore. At least it will be over.

"Over?" there is a voice in the flames that fill the world and it sounds sort of.... British, proper to the point of being prissy like the schoolmarm in those historical movies your mother loves and that you used to watch with her before you decided they were lame. "Why would life be over when you have been chosen to bear the Crown of Brass and Flame? You have been broken yes, you have failed and you have known pain yet rejoice for from that pain you may rise reborn to smite your enemies and reforge the cosmos, to claim the empty throne and reign in glory everlasting." As it spoke you could see more of of a shape in the flames. It was man-like but androgynous and hairless like a snake, its eyes were black as a starless night and its tongue twice forked and darting green.

You knew too well what this was. How could you not being the daughter of a Knight of the Cross those sworn to cast out the Fallen . It was going to tempt you to take up its power for your own pride and folly, it was going to try to make you a monster.... more of a monster. But... but you knew the Denarians were strong, strong enough maybe to fight the Scarecrow, save Harry an your mother and then... and then you could give up the Coin, Sanya had done it and he had become a Knight so God must have forgiven him....

The demon tilted its head just a bit too far to the side be be human and it asked: "Do you always plan treachery so loudly? You should really learn a bit more subtlety once you take up the Crown..." Fear raced though you like a lightning bolt, but it was not done speaking. "I am not bound to some bit of jade to be spent and passed on, nor do I know aught of the Proud Morning Star you speak of, much less do I serve him. The power I offer you is deeper than the vaults of the Underworld and more sublime than the than the Vaults of the Heavens. Small is its seed slumbering under the ice in this Rhaska's palace, but great would be its blooming grafted to the tree of your soul."

"My... my soul?" you say in what is far too much like a squeak for your liking and only now do you realize that the pain is gone, that in the glare of the green flame your voice was back. Maybe you could... What beat the Scarecrow with your bare hands, trick it with an illusion? you laugh at your own arrogance.

"Ah my Princess you shouldn't belittle yourself like that," the demon answered her thoughts. "If you were not one who would have such a thought then your soul could not contain the power that I offer. It is not merely that you have suffered as the Unspeakables have suffered long ago, but that you are great. If you but take my hand that greatness can be realized, you may save who you will, destroy what you will."

Whatever happens at least they will be safe, you think to yourself as you slowly raise your hand, yet in your mind temptation sings of...

[] Dominion, of making the world bend to your will and yours alone as it was in that terrifying wonderful when you had first grasped magic
Urge of the Conqueror: The Infernal may replenish her Essence whenever she forces an enemy or other powerful figure to submit themselves to her will.

[] Triumph by any means, the thrill of rule-breaking of knowing deep down that it's not forbidden if you don't get caught
Urge of the Corrupter: The Infernal may replenish her Essence whenever she destroys the illusions of the righteous, or tempts them into abandoning their code and taking the low road

[] Sundering, you are going to break this wretched place and you are going to feed the Scarecrow the the fires of you wrath, only then will you be free
Urge of the Destroyer: The Infernal may replenish her Essence whenever she defeats a supernatural opponent or overwhelming mortal opposition, lays waste to important assets be longing to her enemies, or uses mayhem and destruction to advance an Intimacy

[] Revelation, of discovering secrets that others do not, of pulling back the skien of the world and making sense of what others think of as chaos or divine plan
Urge of the Forbidden: The Infernal may replenish her Essence whenever she learns secretive or forbidden lore of the supernatural world, or binds an unwholesome being into her service

[] Perfection, your plans had failed, they had hurt your friends and thrown you into this hell, but with this power perhaps now they would not fail and you could make them all happy, all safe.
Urge of the Manipulator: The Infernal may replenish her Essence whenever a plan unfolds precisely according to her design and expectations.

OOC: Ok so this quest... this quest is a combination of Exalted vs World of Darkness, a fan book for the aforementioned games and the Dresden Files, the series of urban fantasy books (and RPG) by Jim Butcher, in that I am replacing WoD with the Dresdedverse in the paradigm. I think it is a cool idea, but at the same time I have never ran or partaken in a White Wolf game and my time is not as free as it once was. Still the idea would not leave me be until I had at least posted the first update. If there is interest I will see about continuing it. For people unfamiliar with exalted Essence if your mana, but also this is a vote about your guiding temptation and how the eldritch power of Primordial hell will impact Molly.

 

[DragonParadox]

A Moment's Dream ​

As you take the hand of the demon it grasps you into a hug. Why did I think demons worked with handshakes? You wonder distantly, the demon's flesh seems to grow around you like a living shroud. It should have been scary, it should have been disgusting, the sound of its pulsing blood all about you... but it wasn't, it was comforting, like when you and Rosie had taken blankets to the tree house to sleep up there when you had been little and you had told scary stories to each other, and read books under the covers for the atmosphere, pretending you were like Marry Shelly and Lord Byron.

If you had just known how mind magic worked Rosie wouldn't have been hurt. The thought worms its way into your thoughts like a maggot, if you had been smart enough, if you had been clever enough, if someone anyone had told you how it was supposed to work, but they hadn't, they hadn't and now you were here making deals, listening to the heartbeat of the demon, slow yet somehow you know infinitely quick.

"I have a name mistress," the prim voice rang in your thoughts. "Demon makes for a poor signifies since it carries implications of wanting to harm you. It always makes me start and twist around in a knot, not that being twisted in a knot can't be a perfectly acceptable thing at the right time but..."

Was am absent minded demon better than one that knew what it was doing? you wonder distantly, as in a dream. "What is your name?"

"I am Usum, but an ember of the King Who Was Before Kings, the Sublime Tyrant of Verdant Flame..." The voice whispers what might be a name into your thoughts, but you hear it not, for you slip into the dreaming held in the cupped hands of the moment, you dream of better times, of brighter times with your family, of school, of things learned. And you dream of things that had been forgotten, of the hidden meanings under the roots of everything, worn almost to dust, of the kindling of stars and the deaths of galaxies, of the sundering of souls that were as legions...

What do the whispers say?

[] The Brazen Blade
The lessons your father give you, how to protect yourself, how to run if you most, the lessons your mother taught how to listen how to speak are now reforged with deadly purpose

[] Emerald Flame World-Smith
Behold the chugging of engines and the electrical dance in hearts of silicon, you see that all the world is mechanism and souls the fire at its heart


[] The Shadow That Speaks
When you were young you were told to be truthful, that lies are sin, yet sin you did and thus you came to thus place. Lie might a truth be made, by subtle tongue by sorcery.


[] Something different, something more (Crossover book can be found here. Page 193 is where you get the steps for making an Infernal. The sheet I am using so I do not have to fiddle around with making dots in the forum is here)
-[] Write in

OOC: The crown will be in the next update because crowns are things you have placed on your head... or in this case place yourself Napoleon style because of how the cosmology works.

 

[DragonParadox]

Crownless Again Shall be Queen ​

Shadows race along the walls of your mind, you hear echoes of words you do not speak and see visions of from afar of realms of dread, armies gathering under a poisoned sky. It is Armageddon and it is Ragnarok, it is the time of the half sun where the jaguars stalk in the dark, it is flood and fire and the lessening of the world, stars from the sky falling, yet amid the carnage you laugh and laugh, your voice like a rain of poison upon the land. So it is done, so it is undone...

You do not wake as you are meant to, the world slowly floating up at you from the haze of slumber, you simply are awake, aware of the howling of the wind, of the smell somehow wretched and enticing as a slick many colored patina of oil covers the ice of hell... not hell Arctis Tor, the realm of the unseelie fey, hell is something else. You do not know how you know all this, its not something dad had said, mom doesn't like him talking about stiff like that. Maybe it's the... Usum, you correct yourself.

"You honor he with with your grace and courtesy my princess..." you hear its voice nestled among your thoughts, you feel it as you would your own limbs in the dark.

"Calling people by their name? I learned that one in pre-K," you snark back almost reflexively.

The pain shoots back though your limbs, nowhere near what it had been, but a reminder of the ice still in you, of the place you are. Your head snaps, first to your mother, still lying on the floor where she had been thrown, then to Harry still struggling with the monster... the fetch, you now know. Frozen in the moment...

"Not frozen gracious flower of wisdom, merely slowed," Usun replied. As it speaks you can see the gnarled hands of the Scarecrow tighten around Harry's throat. "The Wyld responds to the greatest power which holds sway within it and while my own meager abilities would never account for that in this time, in this place I am the steward of a power transcendent."

"So use it!" you shout back.

"That is not for me to do, but for you." As it speaks the words you see before you an ember of green flame that grows, unfolding like a flower, unraveling like the cocoon of some alien insect into impossible shapes. Now a thousand staring eyes peering out from among the flames, then an inferno that devours and demands obeisance lest one be consumed, a crown of empire that bestrides the world, wondrous and terrible that changes into blackness struck though with distant stars that only illuminate its emptiness, a fractal filigree of gold and brass that stretches into endless possibility, the web that binds the wold.

A voice echoes in your mind that is not Usum and is not yours, but something in between, cold and commanding down the vaults of ages:

Choose

[] The Crown of Eyes
While intensely studying an object, situation, or individual that is within her line of sight, the Infernal may spend 1 Essence and ask one question about it, which the Storyteller must answer honestly. The Infernal can only ever use this power a single time on any object, situation, or individual. When the character's anima is flaring, great staring eyes open within its emerald flames, and the Infernal becomes impossible to ambush or strike with an unexpected attack, even if her foe is invisible.

[] The Crown of Flames
The Infernal becomes aware whenever someone speaks her name, and may reflexively spend 1 Essence to, within a frozen moment that does not distract her in any way from what's going on around her, scry on the situation in which her name has been invoked. She can see and hear the speaker and his surroundings for the next (Essence) minutes. If she desires, she may spend 1 additional Essence to punish the one who took her name in vain by causing him to burst into emerald flames as though engulfed in a bonfire (two levels of lethal damage per turn of exposure, difficulty 6 to soak). While her anima is flaring, both scrying and immolation do not cost Essence; in either case, she can only set someone on fire a single time as punishment, at least until he is so unwise as to speak her name again.

[] The Crown of Glory
The Infernal may touch a wicked spirit that has submitted itself utterly to her authority, spend 1 Essence, and transform it into a suit of ghastly armor that looks like it was made by butchering the spirit and using its hide and bones as construction materials, giving her +2 soak dice. She also manifests a melee or ranged weapon befitting the spirit's nature, such as a scythe studded with fangs or a pistol that fires flesh-devouring insects instead of bullets (this weapon has normal traits for a weapon of its type, save that its damage is aggravated). The armor and weapon reconstitute themselves back into the spirit at the end of the scene (or sooner if the Infernal wills it so), but the spirit is ever-after tied to the Infernal from that point onwards until it is destroyed or she willingly releases it from its compact. When she spends 1 Essence, or at no cost while her anima is flaring, she may reflexively summon the spirit to her side from wherever it may be in the cosmos and instantly transform it into her panoply once more.

[] The Crown of Kings
The Infernal may spend 1 Essence to sanctify any oath she has personally witnessed, scribing the words of the pact on the air with Essence. Any who should break this oath begins to radiate corrupt Essence that draws in great swarms of powerful, wicked spirits that desire nothing more than to feast on the oathbreaker and everything she spends a great deal of time in contact with. Additionally, if the Infernal approaches any of the night folk on legitimate business and they offer her or her companions unprovoked violence, then any roll made by the offending supernatural during the course of that violence which produces even a single 1 becomes an automatic botch.

[] The Crown of Night
The first 2 Essence the Infernal spends in a scene don't count toward flaring her anima. Additionally, when her anima does flare, she may shroud herself in it like an obscuring cloak, making her impossible to recognize. Anyone in the scene that has already recognized her must roll Willpower against difficulty 8 or be struck blind, deaf, and mute for an hour each time they attempt to reveal her identity to anyone else during the next (Essence rating) days.

[] The Crown of Worlds
By spending 2 Essence, the Infernal may discorporate herself into the ley lines of the world, reforming some hours later at a place of spiritual desolation, suffering, or terrible sin. The spot where she discorporated is left badly burnt and corroded in her wake, and if not subjected to mystical cleansing of some sort, will slowly fester into a site of spiritual corruption over the next several months. When her anima flares, the Infernal may, at will and as she desires, raise or lower the local veil rating by +2/–2, as well as, if she desires, tainting the veil such that anything passing through it or using a power across its boundary while her anima flares is burned by her hideous radiance and must soak two levels of lethal damage.

[] The Crown of Wrath
Once per scene, the Infernal can re-roll an attack, damage, defense, or soak roll and keep the preferred result. When the character's anima is flaring, 10s count as two successes on damage and soak rolls.

OOC: As a note, if you take crown of worlds, there is a charm that also tanks the veil between the worlds and you can just choose to rip a hole though the middle of Arctis Tor, you will probably end up in some place quite hostile on the material side, but between your magic and Harry's it should be much easier to deal with than your present circumstances. Also not many things would want to walk though your hellfire wake after the exaltation ripped control of space time in the heart of winter out of the hands of Winter. They do not know you do not have its full power until they can get a look at it.

 

[DragonParadox]

Sight Beyond Reckoning ​

As you peer into the depths of the Crown that blazes before you and see ten thousand, thousand eyes staring back like the blossoms of some alien tree on branches of green flame and those you take up, resolute. Through them all things can be seen, you know as surely as you know your own name. If I'm gonna be damned then it will damn well be with my eyes wide open and I will never, never do anything like what I did to Rosie out of ignorance.

Though your hands are still nailed to the tree with shards of ice you do not need them for this. By will alone you raise the crown until it is above your head, looking down at you, not with many eyes, but a single great lidless eye waiting to serve. The part of you that is still the little girl who used to smuggle a dogeared copy to Fellowship to camp so you could read it 'authentically' wonders: Am I Sauron now?

Just as the crown lays on your headless fire envelops you, you make a sound such as you do not imagine these halls have ever heard from their prisoners, you giggled. The power flows into you like wine, like ice and fire, like the song and shadow of great things long past. Great things that will be again, Usum assures you and you nod as you look upon the Scarecrow. As you look with the eyes of blooming power all-around at the thing that had kidnapped you, the thing that had tortured you that in its twisted way had been your first teacher in matters of magic... and you see that it is hollow, an old lie that had tricked itself into thinking that it was true, and you see that it is weak as the kindling it had chosen to take for its shape. The tree cannot hold you, you are not the weak stupid little girl who was dragged in here who knows how long ago, the fetch cannot hunt you, at least no more than the moth hunts the flame.

[] Poison Flame Unholy Night
Key Charms: Lanka: Demon City of the Rakshas and Kakuri: the Night Realm
Standard Charms
No Category: Key to the Kingdom: (Favored Abilities) (•) Excellency use your skills to supernatural levels
The Hell of Being Skinned Alive: Freedom Lets Go (•) Burn a supernatural control or geas at the cost of an intimacy
Kakuri: Cracked Cell Circumvention (•) Escape more easily from bindings of all sorts
Kakuri: Without Honor, Without Hope (•) Immunity to Cold; power from Cold
Lakha: Green Sun Nimbus Flare (•••) Burn your enemies in the fire of your hate
Background
Allies •••• (To Be determined)
Demonic Guide • (Can be used to fly; conjure infernal weapons etc...)
Freebie Points 15 to start with:
Flaw: Vengeful (Winter Court) -2 points
Willpower ••••• +5 points
Kakuri: Ultimate Darkness Internalization (•••) Open a path into the realm of the unhappy dead; may take others with you at the cost of bashing damage +9 Points
Hell of Boiling Oil: Charred Sinner Renewal (•) Can regain essence at an accelerated peace or heal bashing and lethal damage unnaturally quickly so long as one is immersed in lethal liquid -3 points

[] Charitable Empress of Jade
Key Charms: Hell of Burrowing Maggots and Kakuri: the Night Realm
No Category: Key to the Kingdom: (Favored Abilities) (•) Excellency use your skills to supernatural levels
Kakuri: Cracked Cell Circumvention (•) Escape more easily from bindings of all so
Hell of Burrowing Maggots: Verdant Emptiness Endowment (•••••) Can grant wishes and demand service of those who accept the boon; the recipient does not have mean the wish seriously merely say it where the infernal is aware of it
Background
Allies •••• (To Be determined)
Demonic Guide • (Can be used to select a shintai aspect to use in normal form: fly; conjure infernal weapons etc...)
Freebie Points 15 to start with:
Hell of Burrowing Maggots: Ephemeral Abrasion Curse (•) Gnaw at the barrier between worlds lowering -3 Points
Hell of Burrowing Maggots: Demonic Primacy of Essence (•) The infernal has an easier time dealing with lesser creatures of darkness -3 Points
Merit: Anima Control (•••••): The infernal may freely control her Anima -5 points
Lakha: Nightmare Fugue Vigilance (•) The infernal does not need sleep and will never suffer sleep deprivation, if she forces herself to sleep she will suffer vague but persistent nightmares -3 points

[] Infernal Exorcist
Key Charms: Lanka: Demon City of the Rakshas and Kakuri: the Night Realm
Standard Charms
No Category: Key to the Kingdom: (Favored Abilities) (•) Excellency use your skills to supernatural levels
The Hell of Being Skinned Alive: Freedom Lets Go (•) Burn a supernatural control or geas at the cost of an intimacy
Kakuri: Cracked Cell Circumvention (•) Escape more easily from bindings of all sorts
Kakuri: Without Honor, Without Hope (•) Immunity to Cold; power from Cold
Lakha: Green Sun Nimbus Flare (•••) Burn your enemies in the fire of your hate
Background
Allies •••• (To Be determined)
Demonic Guide • (Can be used to fly; conjure infernal weapons etc...)
Freebie Points 15 to start with:
Flaw: Permanent Caste Mark What it says on the tin 2 points
Ancient Sorcery: Sapphire Ritual of Exorcism: Banish any possessing spirit from its vessel of flesh... any possessing spirit -5 points
No Category Charm: The Pentacle and the Scepter (••••) Become more skilled at casting and learning ancient sorcery -12

Character Sheet so far

OOC: I am pretty new to the system, but I thought I would point out some fun combinations, like getting the wish spell early with anima control so that you can walk around granting wishes like a guardian angel without flaring into demonic fire. Another Option exorcising the Fallen. Yes, that will work even if the Denarian is unwilling to let go, exaltation says 'fuck your paradigm, Holy Theion says so' as long as you make the roles. Proper link to the book this time.

 

[DragonParadox]

Facing Fear ​

The moment shatters like a mirror black as you breathe in for the first time since the power had come to you, you breathe in the dark for it holds no terrors for you anymore and the killing cold of Arctis Tor and you make it yours. The pain in your arms and legs is hardly a twinge, the thorns are slick with blood and so, almost without thinking, you slip off them and land lightly on the balls of your feet. A weapon I need a weapon, you think, looking around for some jagged shard of ice.

"Here mistress," you hear Usum's voice in your mind and without needing to ask more you reach out with your right hand to your chest, where the chill is strongest.

Out of your heart, or perhaps the place behind your heart you you pull out a blade of gleaming bronze. In it not one of the arming swords you had trained with a little when you were younger, but a hand and a half sword that is somewhere between a katana and a scimitar, its guard sharpened on one side to a wicked point and on the other coming to a sharpened hook that should by rights take off your fingers if you try to use it as a guard. But this sword will never cut you, you know, it cannot, it is a part of you... a part of your soul maybe. The pummel flares to light, a great eye wreathed in heaatless green flame.

"How fascinating, I've never been a sword... at least I don't remember ever being one," you hear Usum, but its voice is faint and far away.

You're already running at the Scarecrow, the Fetch, as it raises its misshapen pumpkin head at you, eyes burning with false flame. That's all the opening Harry needs as he raises his hand and blasts it in the chest with a burst of soundless force. Only a step, but... that is more than you need.

Carving into the thing's left arm where its elbow should be you use the whipping of its arm to swing around and under its right claw then hook it with your guard and snap off some of its vine fingers.

"What have you done?" It sounds afraid. You enjoy that perhaps a little more than you aught, but you will feel guilty about that later.

Still, the thing is fast and dreadfully old, all the stronger here in the place of its power. It's not that you don't see the kick, but that it had turned you around in a twisted parody of a dance until the only way you could get out of the way would be right into Harry. and you do not want to risk hurting him by canon-balling right into him as he's trying to find his feet, especially not burning with the power of... Power, you do not know what else to call it.

Getting kicked in the stomach hurts, but you are reasonably sure it should have hurt a lot more, like ruptured organs more, not like a middling soccer injury.

You hit the thing again, this time in the chest, but you notice its wounds are starting to heal. "I could pin you to the fucking wall," A cut to the right shoulder "I could make you scream until you don't have a voice anymore." A stab trough where its stomach aught to be. "But I'm not going to do that because I am better than you." The final stab goes right through its right eye and then explodes with the dreadful green fire of creation and annihilation, the flash of a malignant star in Winter's heart.

1 Essence Used

You hope, you pray to God, if He is even listening to whatever you have become, that you are not lying.

"Hell's bells..." For the first time since you told him you knew about 'fun handcuffs' three years ago Harry Dresden looks at a loss for words. If you were anywhere else it would be kind of funny.

What do you say?

[] We need to wake up mom and get out of here, now. I'll explain later (Charisma+Leadership)
-[] Stunt: Optional

[] Try to explain (Charisma+Empathy)
-[] Stunt: Optional

[] Write in

OOC: Molly did not actually take damage, she soaked that because she is an exalt and can just soak lethal damage the same way mortals can soak bashing. She only spent one essence on the nimbus because she got enough hits with the first attack to not really need it and she has a an innate sense that her bullshit comes with a finite tank of gas. It helps that she was getting as much of a bonus from the cold as the Eldest Fetch was.

 

[DragonParadox]

The Tree of Frozen Tears ​

"Harry," your voice sounds strange in your own ears. "Don't freak out I'll tell you..." You are about to say 'everything', but the word catches in your throat as you see yourself in one of the ice walls. How could you explain everything when you do not understand it yourself, all you know is you made a deal with a demon for phenomenal cosmic power and you now have a mark on your forehead, like some kind of off brand Denarian.

"You could never be 'off-brand' oh Glorious Princess of Righteous Flame," Usum whispers in your mind. Your own personal Gretchen Wieners, great just... You can't deal with this, you can't think of what to say or what to do that will make this better.

Do something! you snap at the demon.

"I am but a sword, yours is the hand that wields," it sounds oddly subdued, resentful, regretful you are not sure.

But as you open your mouth again the words are just there. "Humans are not the only things the Winter Fey kept in here. The only way we were both getting out of here was together."

Lost 1 Essence

"Hold on there a moment, let me have a look at you. Do you feel... different?"

You do not wait for him to finish speaking, turning on your heel to run not walk towards your mother. Please be OK, please be OK, please be OK... Part of you cannot imagine a world where she is not OK, if your father is the, literal, knight in shinning armor than your mother has been the rock of your childhood, always there no matter what. But there is another part of you, the one that burns with the hateful fire, that lives in emptiness that whispers: Things can always get worse.

She's breathing, see her breath. "Mom," the same word that had gotten her hurt slipped out again. "Are you OK?" the question was almost as silly as Harry's previous one. Of course she wasn't.

As she starts to stir one worry flows into another. I really wish the lightshow would stop right about now. It very stubbornly does not, though Usum at least explains: "Your soul has transcended the vessel of flesh in which it was housed and now shines forth like a fire upon the altar of your rebirth. It will not be put out, though in time the flame will grow less and be contained ."

"Ever met someone whose soul is too big for their body?" you call back at Harry who was staring very intently at the place where the tree had been, not the torture tree, the big one that held your power, though there was nothing but blackened earth there, the only place that was not covered by ice in the whole garden.

"No... I can't say I have. Is this where I have to say the dress fits you fine?"

You can't help it, you giggle. He is such a dork. "No it's where you say the dress fits me perfectly," you quip back. For some reason he stops dead looking at your torn jeans, a lot more torn than you bought them. It's not like they were your favorites or anything. Something tells you you could make better jeans now.

"And vestments far more wondrous..."

"Molly, what are you doing?" your mother unknowingly cuts off the demon in your head as she gets up. For all the strangeness that brings you recognize the tone, the 'you are in so much trouble young lady' tone. The one that came with... Yeah that is there's the look.

"I was being tortured by a spirit of terror, so I made a deal with another spirit who was here bound for transcendent power," you answer... and the moment the words are out of your mouth you regret them at the horrified look on her face.

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but you speak over him. "Mom I'm fine, I'm not possessed or anything, I'm still me." I'm more me than I have ever been, you think but thankfully keep your mouth shut on. That would not sound good outside your head.

Mom looks you up and down, from the tips of your now snow covered sneakers to your extra ripped jeans to the jacket and T-shirt that have fared only a little better. "We will deal with that thing when we are back home. Just don't use it."

Before you can answer the sound of horns rings out on the wind, echoing off the jagged edges of the Winter Queen's garden. Stones rattle underfoot.. but as you look down at them you see they are not stones but charred bones littering the field of battle. The wicked fey come to reclaim their realm.

"No time to argue!!" Harry calls, drawing himself up to his full and rather commanding height.

And so you turned, from the dark tower into the garden of ice, the call of the Hunt echoing close. You should have been scared of the sound, you really should, but all that you could think as you followed your mother and Harry into the dark of false knight was, how much you wanted to turn and show them the fire so that the fetch's kin would never again dare to crawl into the mortal world.

"You have not yet grown so mighty." If Usum is telling you there is something you can't do then you really can't do it

A dark haired man...and not just a man you knew at once, he moves too gracefully to sure comes out onto the parapet, bloodied sword in hand. He was saying something about the Wild Hunt coming, which you knew and someone named Murphy, but you hardly notice. Something moves in the dark, a moan that is more than just the wind. You follow it and wish that you had not...

There is another prisoner here. The man's hair hung like Spanish moss over his bowed face, some of it light brown, some of it dark grey, some of it gone brittle and white. He turned just a little swaying in his bonds, just enough give to inflict that extra bit of pain, you realize your stomach twisting in pity and horror all at once. Almost as though against your walk towards him, ignoring your mother's commands to hurry.

You brush the hair out of his face to see it twisted with cold and hunger and agonies you couldn't name.

"Mab," he calls out with a ruined voice. "You're early." There is still hate in there, defiance but it is worn away by desperation. "Come to have him kill me then?" He tries to spit at you, though the spittle must have long since frozen in his mouth. "Get it over with then, I'm ready to meet my Maker. Hell will be warmer at least."

"He has power," Usum whispers in your ear. "An ally perhaps to escape this place, shared torments are among the strongest of bonds."
"Molly, get away from him!" Harry adds his own call to your mother's.

"Kill me, you bitch! If you can find someone to serve you after what you keep doing to me!" He turns his unseeing eyes in the direction of Harry's voice. "Did she promise to heal you and make you whole Dresden? She keeps doing it to me."

"She heals him and then she tortures him anew," Usum sounds almost impressed by the man. "He must have displeased the Rhaska Lord of this realm quite grievously."

"Molly, we can't do anything about that., please come on." Harry comes close and looks like he is about to try to pull you away, then he stops, looking worried and just as horrified as you feel about the man. But... you have never seen Harry afraid to help, nor heard about it, even from your mother when she was complaining about him.

"Why?" the word cuts the air like ice.

"It will piss off Mab, she is..."

You do not turn to look at him, eyes still on the tortured prisoner. "The mistress of this place, the liege of the Scarecrow."

What do you do?

[] Fuck Queen Mab and all her kind (Enemy Winter Court increases by ●●●)
-[] Kill the man as he asks (+3 frebie points to spend; the Mantle returns to Mab's keeping as it cannot bond to you)
-[] Free him (If he survives gain ally Loyd Slate; the Rogue Winter Knight ●●●)

[] As much as you hate to leave anyone like this, listen to Harry and run

[] Write in

***​

Administrative Vote: Which extra key ability do you drop:

[] Write in

OOC: So about that collecting of evil spirits and Creatures of Darkness that Infernals do so well... here's a Winter Knight on sale because Mab was careless. And yes you are strong enough to just grab him and run also the excellency is still running which means you would be supernaturally competent in persuading Dresden to rescue Slade.

 

[DragonParadox]

Flight into Peril ​

Your fingers are curl tighter on the hilt of your sword. I could kill the man, end his suffering., you know. Harry isn't fast enough to stop you unless he uses magic and he wouldn't do that against you, but something holds you back you. It's not not a dark insight of of shadow and flame, nor whisper of your new head-bound companion, but a very human reminder of how you got here to begin with. You tried to use magic you barely understood to help Rosie, to save the baby... and look where it had gotten them. There are many things you do not know about the bargain you had made back there, but one thing is for sure, you have a lot more power than the Molly Carpenter who decided to spin fear into a spell, power to make things right, and power to screw them up. Harry knows what he is about

Turning so fast the world blurs you run, that was it you were just running too quickly you were not crying for the man you had left to the mercies of the things that had taken you.

The mountains crack, the skies shake as the darkness of Winter overcomes them, no cloud against the face of the sun this, but the pal of all mortal fears in deepest winter, in darkest night that the sun would never come again. Howls of wolves and screeches of the mad and the damned and horns, always the horns, closer and closer, calling the savage glee of the hunt.

There is something almost familiar to it... and it pisses you off even more.

Harry looked at the not quite-a-man with something like recognition of his own. "Keep moving."

"What's your name?" you ask suddenly of the man, ignoring the funny look your mother gives you. "It's just I have been thinking of you as 'that guy' in my head and that's just rude when I could ask your name..."

Something behind you cackles loudly like a thunder cloud trying to be the wicked witch of the west, but he still manages to get out. "Thomas Raith."

"Karin Murphy," the blonde woman with the gun says, in the sort of no-nonsense tone you associate with Mister Weis the Not-Fun Assistant Principal. "Chicago PD." Probably for the best that you did not offer to carry her even if she is six inches shorter than you and you are not tall for your age.

Carrying cops or no the snow is getting thicker as the howling song of the hunt seems to grasp the heavens, sweeping sheets of white in your path and unlike you the others don't grow stronger with it.

"Hold up," Harry said, stopping up ahead. "We should take off the armor..." He does as he says, taking off the duster and the chainmail underneath... and then he tossed it at Thomas.

As the dark haired man sputters he says: "You're strong enough that it won't slow you down..."

"I'm strong too," you pipe in, relieved that you could help with something. No one says anything this time about the mark of your inhumanity, but maybe it was because the green light had finally faded, the only sign that you were something more than a normal girl now was how fast you could go carrying all this stuff.

The ground grows uneven under your feet, a mass of tangled roots poking out like the frozen limbs of some long forgotten battle and rattling thorns that pull at your legs. Sneakers, not the best shoes for running from a coterie of evil fairies, dully noted.

"Your pardon August Lady, but they do not seem to be very good at sneaking either..."

As you struggle to think of a way to explain that without making Usum think you were laughing at them Harry points at something up ahead, a ripple in the curtain of worlds forty yards or so up the slope. the moments he does so the tangle of roots between you and it explodes with black chittering things with far too many legs. Twice as long as a man is tall and big enough that their heads come up to your waist, you would call them spiders expect they seem to think that eight legs are far too few and they are not picky about where they grow those legs either, an arachnophobe's nightmare

"Molly, get back!" your mother calls, but the sword is already in your hand. No way are you going to let them fight these things alone, there's five of them that you can see in the snow, with more of them maybe hidden among the roots.

How do you fight?

[] Only with the sword and essence-enhancement, don't make it too obvious you are using your powers in front of your mother
-[] Write in Stunt, optional

[] There's horrible giant spiders, come to eat all of you, now is not the time for less fire, it's time for more.
-[] Write in Stunt, optional

[] Write in

OOC: in canon this is Ogres, but the butterflies have already well and truly started to flap their wings

 

[DragonParadox]

Broken Webs and Tangled Ways ​

You leap into the fray kicking off in the sound of snapping roots. Thomas seems to have had the same idea and he is a lot more graceful at it, you cannot help but notice. Still you have more than enough control to land point first into the guts of a spider-thing. So of course it screams with a human voice in agony, because fairies are gross that way and Disney has been lying to you your whole life.

Lost 1 Essence

Thankfully you have plenty of things to vent...
The first spider spews out its guts on the ground in a puddle noxious secretions
Your anger...
The second you blind with a slash across the eyes and send scurrying into the dark
On.
The third you dive under and kill by slashing open its abdomen again only to rise up and use an an ad hoc shield against one of its fellows before driving the point of your sword between its mandibles

That is when you notice there seem to be a lot more than five spiders around, specially when you bound the pair burning from flames that hiss against the ever thickening snow.

"Watch out!" you hear Thomas just an instant too late as a mass of legs and fags falls on you from behind. for the first time since you took Usum's deal you feel the hot bite of pain, in your calf just under the knee

You take 1 Lethal Damage

Carving your way out of a spider when it is trying to bury you with its bulk is gross, though at least their insides do not seem to be poison and you get out just in time to return the favor to Thomas since one of the things had climbed a dead tree he was using to cover his back and was about to strike down at him.

"Up!" you shout, and then maybe a little crazy with the rush of the fight. "Boost me!" Now you had seen people do this stuff at the Ballet, your sister Hope was crazy about ballerinas... but they had to practice this stuff.

"Practice is for mortals," you hear Usum whisper in your mind as you jump onto his left hand and then launch upwards into the tree by the force of your momentum and his strength. The sneaky spider was apparently not expecting to have its head sliced from its thorax... or was it abdomen. One of those things anyway. After riding the headless spider corpse to the ground with a satisfying crunch you realize that is was an awful lot more light here than it had been a moment ago and this time it wasn't your fault.

A boy or maybe a man with coppery hair, cut to shoulder length, framing an open cheerful face stands there, shining like the sun in summer. For an instant you feel sad at the sight, though you cannot tell why, he is obviously not on the side of the spiders as evidenced by the one he had somehow neatly bisected which was more strength than either Thomas or you could manage.

Harry looks at once relieved and kind of annoyed to see him while Mom looks suspicious and covered in spider guts, but otherwise fine. Given that the newcomer is not flinching from her armor or sword you guess he isn't fey, but his clothes sure did not come out ofany mortal shop, a mortal herald maybe.

You feel like you should introduce yourself, but being covered in bug guts does rather dampen the prospect of speaking to handsome strangers. Fortunately he is not paying much attention to you and he just waves Harry and oddly enough mother though. "So is our debt fulfilled lady Carpenter."

So you go along with the others, your stomach twisting a little as you tip over from the landscape of wintry desolation into what looks like a movie theater that had seen better days... thirty years ago or so. As strange a place as you would expect to find a one of the mighty of Summer, and mighty she is indeed.

The woman before you on the worn out seats is beautiful, but not as you would think of a person as beautiful, she is like blue skies and quick warm rains, like the sun without shadows when summer is still young and untroubled. Yet the face that is framed in that moon-silver hair is still marked with lines of strain and weariness... and as soon as she lays eyes on you fear.

"What... who are you?" She cuts herself off. "Wait, don't answer that. You're not of Winter are you. You feel cold but not like them."

That is when you notice that Harry's breath was still steaming from looming protectively over you. Before he can say anything your mother cuts in. "She is my daughter. We can deal with the rest now that she is free."

You open your mouth, yet you do not know what to say. That you do not think the power can be given up while you live? That you are not sure you would even want that even if you could?

What do you do?

[] Try to talk to the fey woman, she might know something, even if you do have to pay her it
-[] Write in stunt

[] Talk to your mother about the deal you made and what it means
-[] Write in stunt

[] Wait, watch and question, it is rare to have so many interesting people in sight
-[] Write in how to use the Crown of Eyes on the situation

[] Write in

OOC: And what is what it looks like when a max melee exalted with excellence, extra dice and a difficulty reduction cuts loose. Thomas helped keep you from being overwhelmed and Harry's fire cleaned up quite a few of them. Charity and Murphy did OK, but they are still mortals with broadly mortal ways of doing damage other than the cold iron.

 

[DragonParadox]

Explaining the Inexplicable ​

5th of July 2006 A.D.

"I can't... I can't talk right now," you raise your hand to the faerie woman, less in warding and more just because you can't play those games right now, even if Usum seems eager to play them, especially since they seem eager to play them. "Mom can we just go in the back to talk I don't want them all to hear and see..." you wave at the others around, not Harry, you trust him, but like Thomas the-really-pretty-swordsman and the police officer. You are reasonably sure Chicago PD cannot arrest you on 'assault and battery by magic' or something, but you would rather not risk it.

At first she does not say anything, just following along, watching you... almost like she thought you were a danger. No, you remember from that time you had a really bad cold when you were seven when she had watched over you all night, like she thinks you are sick.

"I don't think a few doors, or even a few walls are going to make a difference to her hearing," she nods towards the fey girl. "I think this can wait until we get to Saint Marry's."

In spite of yourself you cannot help but resent that last bit. Want to see if I'll burst into flames on holy ground? you manage to bite back the snark you would later regret. "Mom, I need to talk about this now to you not confess my sins to Father Forthil."

"You would know," she says in a noncommittal tone that you have heard enough times to know it means the opposite.

She did come with me though away from the others, she is treating me like Molly, not like a Fallen in a Molly suit, you remind yourself.

Inside you find an old desk defaced by enough layers of graffiti to give an anthropologist a field day illuminated only by the faint light of evening filtering through the broken window. The chair for that desk is thankfully not lit because you think those are rat droppings and you do not want to know for sure. In the other room you can hear Harry talking to the newcomers, but you cannot make out the words, so at least out of normal hearing for what that's worth.

OK, no sitting down, deep breath... And as soon as you start talking it all comes out: "The deal wasn't really about something specific. Not like I swore to serve anyone or anything, in fact he explicitly said I could do whatever I wanted and I just needed to pick it up and..."

"Molly..." your mother does not sound angry, she sounds tired and sad. "Listen to yourself, why would anything wholesome just give you power like that if not to change you, to corrupt you. That is what magic does."

"Oh you mean like..." you start sarcastically, about to say 'Harry' and start that fight you had been avoiding when the demon in your head pipes in. "I could not use the power I had been given into stewardship without one of the Chosen anymore than you could have escaped the trap of your tormentor by merely the strength of your limbs"

"It couldn't get out without a mortal soul to carry it. I had to pick..." What kind of crown of hellish flame I wanted, you edit out your words again again, it's getting harder. "I mean, I don't feel like I've got to be all cackling evil, or corrupt or sinister or anything, just that I've got a tap to some kind of...of... magic nuclear reactor that I can just dial up and down which includes a magic sword that comes out of my soul, and I'm still not helping am I? Dad is going to be so mad with me, isn't he?"

"Oh... sweetheart, it's not about your father, your father loves you, but you can't keep doing magic, it's going to hurt you..." she reaches out to touch your hand, then drops it instinctively. You definitely are not running a fever now, some quiet corner of your brain with a liking for dark humor offers. "You have to let it go. It's the only way."

You had been ready for her to yell at you, if you are being honest you deserved a lot worse than that for what you did to Rosie, what you had not been ready for was her asking you, practically pleading with you to do what you are almost sure is impossible now. Why, why do you hate magic so much mother?

Upon your brow green flames burn unseen to mortal eyes and in those flames dwell eyes that pierce flesh and bone, metal and mind, space and time. They are not yet open, but you can will them so.

What do you do?

[] Ask her why she hates magic so much (Empathy+Charisma)
-[] Write in Stunt Optional

[] Look through the Crown of Eyes to see why your mother hates magic so much

[] Go to Saint Marry's, maybe with Father Forthil's help or Harry's you can talk your mother down

[] Write in

OOC: Every time Molly just stops herself from saying something to set off Charity that was a willpower roll. Turns out having 9 willpower is good for more than throwing off spells.

 

[DragonParadox]

Words of Flame and Words of Water ​

5th of July 2006 A.D.

Standing in this dingy office, trying to talk yo your mother to an audience of rats and cockroaches you almost give up, just throw the whole tangled mess of it at someone who knows more than you do. You had messed up so many times, failed so much, so many people... but you just can't. It feels like giving up for good to step aside now and just let the adults clean it up. It would be failing yourself, it would be failing Usum who had given you the power to fight your way out of Winter and in a way it would even be failing mom and dad by asking them to come to terms with whatever ancient power you had taken up on their own.

I should try at least. ""It's not like it's some coin I can just pick up and throw away if I have to." With a thought you make the strange symbol flare on your brow and reach out to grasp it. It feels warm against your hand, as warm as flesh aught to be... and very very solid. You have the feeling that if someone were to drill into the skin around it, then into the bone and the flesh and the brain the brass would just keep going deeper .

That's not macabre at all is it Molly? you think as you drop your hand to your side.

"You have to want to let go," your mother says quietly, though there is a creeping note of desperation in her voice... About you not wanting to give up magic? About you being right that you cannot? You can't tell and its terrifying in the way fighting giant fairy spiders could never be.

"Even if I could put this particular deal down, that doesn't change what's already happened in the past--I don't think the option of completely turning away is there anymore, and even if it was, I'm not sure it'd be the right idea. All of this happened because I was being an idiot, because I didn't know what I was doing and thought that I did, and that's not going to change unless I decide to start paying attention and taking responsibility."

"It's because you lied and kept secrets," her voice grows sharper, but then she sighs and closes her eyes for a moment as if fighting a headache. "You want to fight fire with fire and everything can catch. People aren't supposed to have that kind of power, they aren't meant to meddle in those sorts of powers and principalities and when they do..." she trails off, obviously not wanting to remind you of Arctis Tor, but you do not need any reminding.

"Mom... I am six thousand miles from shore in a rowboat and you are telling me to walk back. Whether I should have tried to wade out when I was six feet away does not matter I now have to learn how to row and navigate." You glance down at the grimy floor and add. "I don't think I have the faith to walk on water. I'm sorry."

At the back of your mind you feel Usum start to say something, then remain mercifully silent.

She sighs and in that sigh there might have been a prayer, too low to hear the words to. Aloud she says at last. "I believe there is a way get rid of it, to let it fade... I have to, but if I'm wrong, if there isn't one to get rid of..." she waves at your forehead. "That, then we will find a way to live with it."

You let out a breath you had not known you were holding. It's not much, barely anything really, but it's a start just the same.

***​

When you return to the main room the fay woman and her companion are gone and Harry does not want to tell you where they had gone, but turning to Thomas earns you a fetchng smile and a faintly exasperated snort. "The Summer Lady and her Knight are off to fight Winter, which they can now do because most of them had to run back into their realm on account of all the chaos we made."

"She doesn't need to know..."

"Need no, I want to though," you cut Harry off. "Good for Summer kicking them in the teeth. I hope they get them good."

"Careful of him..." Usum whispers in your thoughts. "Oh not him, the pale one, I recognize him now that you are not distracted with the cause of Righteous Slaughter of your foes, he's a pari, a lust demon." What follows is a short, but thorough description of how spirits of lust bound to mortal flesh feed, and proof that no matter how cold you have gotten you can definitely still blush.

The demon either does not care, or more likely does not understand the feeling. "It would likely be quite safe for you to partake so long as you set a clear..."

"No more talk about pari!" you command before your face can reach the shade of a tomato.

Of course that is when your mother asks how you are doing. Looking for anything to change the subject you practically blurt out:

[] To Harry: How do you learn magic?

[] To Officer Murphy: How did you learn about all this, do many cops know?

[] Write in

OOC: Urge of the Forbidden is not just seeking out obscure and dangerous magical lore, it is also more benign stuff like an inclination to ask questions under stress. Plus I think it works as a good contrast to the excellency fueled socials up there that managed to budge Charity, even if just a little.