Logs:Darkest Shadows Part 3 - The Hunt: Difference between revisions

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The Fence gets dusted, the hole is big enough for them to go through, the group moves to the door and as they reach it, they all feel Hearth's magic suppresses and dismantle the hallow that she can sense over there.  They reach the front door, without issues and find it already unlocked, the lock already fucked up beyond repair.  
The Fence gets dusted, the hole is big enough for them to go through, the group moves to the door and as they reach it, they all feel Hearth's magic suppresses and dismantle the hallow that she can sense over there.  They reach the front door, without issues and find it already unlocked, the lock already fucked up beyond repair.  


A somewhat high-pitched scream of anger is heard from inside of the warehouse, noise begin to rise inside. (cliffhanger pause)
A somewhat high-pitched scream of anger is heard from inside of the warehouse, noise begin to rise inside.
 
The lock being all but destroyed, it is a simple thing for the door to open with a short whistle of the wind, or a gently push of the shoulder.  Beyond it lies what seems to be a lobby, a few coats hanging from a rack and a few pair of shoes.  A door that's marked "break room" is further on their right, with a few lockers there too.
 
Another entry, with the door cleanly removed from its hinges is in front of them, almost exactly, which obviously leads to the larger part of the building, several racks and shelves are seen, filled with various boxes, but there's plenty of space in between.
 
Movement can be seen heading toward them from behind and between the shelves and racks.
 
Beyond that, behind the racks and shelves seems to be a partially enclosed space. All of the mages peripheral sights picks up a lot of strangeness.
 
The owl circles overhead until she's sure everyone is safely through the door and into the building, at which point Fox swoops down out of the sky and unfolds into her humanoid form, still concealed from cameras and prying eyes both by her magic and Vasha's. She filters the flashes of magic that she sees over to Vasha: Death, mostly, some Prime, and then  a splash of Matter, like cream into coffee. Fox says nothing, just takes her place at the Acanthus' right hand.
 
The lock being all but destroyed, it is a simple thing for the door to open with a short whistle of the wind, or a gently push of the shoulder.  Beyond it lies what seems to be a lobby, a few coats hanging from a rack and a few pair of shoes.  A door that's marked "break room" is further on their right, with a few lockers there too.
 
Another entry, with the door cleanly removed from its hinges is in front of them, almost exactly, which obviously leads to the larger part of the building, several racks and shelves are seen, filled with various boxes, but there's plenty of space in between.
 
Movement can be seen heading toward them from behind and between the shelves and racks.
 
Beyond that, behind the racks and shelves seems to be a partially enclosed space. All of the mages peripheral sights picks up a lot of strangeness.
 
The owl circles overhead until she's sure everyone is safely through the door and into the building, at which point Fox swoops down out of the sky and unfolds into her humanoid form, still concealed from cameras and prying eyes both by her magic and Vasha's. She filters the flashes of magic that she sees over to Vasha: Death, mostly, some Prime, and then  a splash of Matter, like cream into coffee. Fox says nothing, just takes her place at the Acanthus' right hand.
 
Vasha's mind broadcasts the traces of magic in the area as red splotches to be clearly avoided, their arcana neatly described in a handsome Arial font.  The movement he's spotted heading their way gets the old flashing red highlights of 'possible threat' coming their way, and Vasha rolls off to the right and adopts a rifleman's crouch to prepare to open up if what's coming their way warrants it.
 
What is it? he wonders of the former  owl at his side.  The thing closing on them, that is.  He takes a moment to aim in preparation, but doesn't announce his presence or warn the creatures off.  Which probably shouldn't surprise anyone too much.
 
Liezel brings up the rear as planned, alert and at the ready to defend her and hers, fascinated by the effects of Mind-filtered information, like the world's best-curated HUD. She's at the ready herself, staring silently at the approaching movement, trying to get a feel for what it might be before conflict is foisted upon them and gauge whether it's a worthy target for her Silver Bullet or not.
 
 
 
"I'm going to make this infinitely easier and wipe this section from existence. Bare with me for a moment. It'll prevent anyone from remembering this place or from leaving it." : Aletheia for a moment grabs a hold of her pendent and places a hand on her weapon, calling upon the power within it :
 
 
As the Quarantine spell weaves around the warehouse, preventing entry and such, the movement from behind the shelves becomes clearer and closer! 8 men shamble at an alarming speed toward them, dead and dessicated obviously, sporting a strange black armor made out of a strange material, which also wraps around their fist. They advance relentlessly toward the intruders with aggressive groans.
 
 
The creatures lunge toward them, and Fox shows Vasha the splash of Death she sees out of the corner of her eye, not the zombies but something else, hidden. Her fingers form a Matter Imago -- yeah, Guardians mostly do that, but guess who's been living with Guardians for twelve years? -- and she bares her teeth at the dessicated bodies, hissing at them through those sharp, vulpine teeth as she flings the formed Imago; it splits up and rolls out across the room and their armor drifts down into ash like Fox just performed a very specific Thanos Snap.
With Mage Sight up, Fox's Nimbus is a flare of bright green, cut grass, and petrichor, and the feeling of staring into the eyes of a faithful canid friend, warm and reassuring.
 
The Armors crumbles, but not to ashes, into shattered, crystalline fragments that hits the ground, some of them turning to dust under the crippling spell.  The spiked armament around their wrist, made out of the same material, remains, a different effect and item, it appears the item are made out of Potentia and tass.
 
It's a quick assessment to conclude this is not their target, which means it's not time to unleash Supernal Winds. The hot air can wait. Instead, grimacing in personal distaste for the abuse of the bodies, Liezel raises her voice in a wordless dirge, melancholy and apologetic, as she reaches for the Supernal threads she suspects hold the bodies in thrall, attempting to command the Death out of the threads- and scowling in irritation as they prove resilient, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth.
 
No dice.
 
The spell remain steadfast against the dispelling attempt, wobbling against the attempt, the zombies continue to march forward.  (failure to dispel)
Aletheia - Joanna (She/her)Today at 12:03 AM
Aletheia holds tight to her personification symbol that the Solomoist carries with her at all time. She then simply points out to five of the zombies. "What's dead must remain dead, you are a lie and lies must be destroyed."
 
The moment she is done speaking space seems to crumble in and around the zombies ripping and tearing at what flesh is upon their skeletons, most likely leaving minimal remains, 8A
TheUserWin - She/TheyToday at 12:06 AM
The five zombies are paste on the ground now, completely destroyed by that magical attack.
 
Hearth was bringing up the rear of their little party. She held a stone bowl in one hand and her mistletoe wood pendant in the other.  She was content to let the others take the offense while she focused on the defense, keeping her Sights- Matter and Death but particularly Prime up for any sign of an incoming attack that she could counter.
 
Vasha waits until the last possible moment to unleash a rather controlled volley from his AK-47.  It sounds more like wood blocks smacking together than a proper rifle, which may be due to some customized gizmo or other.  Point being, the civilian mind might not immediately associate that with rifle fire.  Not that this matters in the pocket dimension, really.
 
Down range, the rounds zip like hornets through the as yet animated flesh of the remaining zombies.  Well aimed, at or near that l'il old brain stem.
 
The zombies that remain are filled with lead and keep stumbling forward, mostly unbothered by the holes, but now splattering blood on the floor, leaving disgusting tracks  beneath them.
From within one of the four spots the Magi had discovered earlier, they feel magic emanate, or rather slither out like a tendril of darkness, the shadows grow longer and it turns a little colder for a brief moment.
 
The Tendril split into five and snake their way toward the invading Magis and just went the darkness is about to wrap around them, to desiccate them the same way, same manner as the rest of the guy's victim?
 
The Darkness recoils violently from the brightest flame... @Petra/Rosalyn/Hearth  pose your counterspell!
 
Hearth stepped forward towards the slithering darkness, standing between it and the others. She burned with a primal fire and drew a rune of warding and purification in the air before her, and set it out against the tendrils of darkness, burning them away.
 
The remaining 3 zombies runs into the group attacking Vasily, then Fox, that one falls flat on its face, slipping on its own blood and then one slams into Liezel with impressive force, but get stopped by the armor
 
Vasha doesn't seem much to mind having a zombie up in his grill.  He nimbly sidesteps it as the inconvenience it is proving to be, and then considers the present chess board and its lack of visible pieces.  He conveys a thought over the link about attempting to bring the suspect out of hiding and into custody with this One Wierd Trick. (Suspects hate him!)  But the intent is there.  He's trying to flush the bad guy out somehow.  Message conveyed.
 
In the more visceral meatspace, Vasha lifts his hand from the trigger of his rifle, shifts it through a few subtle mudras sufficient to conjure one hell of an Imago which sends his nimbus flaring up like a ballpeen hammer.  Reality distorts and time distends around his person.  He can be seen to be taking three dozen actions at once, and therefore none at all, though it all resolves to him hurling the Imago at the center of the floor and causing a splash of silver tinted magic splattering just about everywhere.  Through fate sight, it's as though Vasha's become a singularity.  A black hole around which the next several moments depend entirely.
 
Cos they do.
 
The dead rise and do their damnedest to savage the invading mages. Death itself is turned against them.
 
And collectively, they say No.
 
Hearth, first, shuts down their aggressor, dissolving his spell in Primal fire, warding away the magick before it can affect them. The zombies crash towards Vasha (laughable), Fox (hilarious), and then Liezel, visibly unarmored and exposed. The dead thing lashes out and slams into her, driving her back a step and shoving the breath from her lungs in a grunt- but accomplishing nearly nothing in the face of the tremendous integrity of her magically enhanced clothing.
 
She retakes the step lost.
 
She raises her voice again, her Nimbus full of thunder and song, rising in intensity as she lashes out with one hand to grip the dead by the throat. And, as the drums, the voices, reach a crescendo-
Light flares through the dark threads animating the creature and rips it to shreds, sundering the spell entirely as the drums go silent.
And Liezel? She lets the body fall and brings her hand back in.
So she can brush a rotted fingernail off the shoulder just struck.
 
The Zombie falls, un-animated, inert
 
Fox crouches, and her fingers curl in a Matter Mudra that brings the earth jutting up underneath two other Zombies, knocking against them and curling fingers around them and crushing them. Like you do.
TheUserWin - She/TheyToday at 1:04 AM
The Earth almost swallows the Zombies, rendering them completely useless without significant repairs, which they don't seem to be getting at all right now.
 
Hearth had chased back the darkness of the spell but didn't let up. She immediately continued continued to chant, fingers flicking and sending an arrow of primal fire to burn back the darkness of one of the places where Death had collected, dismantling the spell completely.
 
The Four Spots of death that they were seeing, from which magic sometimes came through dissappear in the same bright flash of flame, the spell having been destroyed, a young man re-materialize with a scowl on his face.
 
A generally goth outlook, dark hair, dark clothes, deep eyes and a sickeing gleam about him to anyone with Mage Sight up.  In his hand is a asburdly ostentatious golden rod with the head of a crowned lion.
 
He's shaking with rage. "HOW DARE YOU!!?" it's so loud, so angry that it barely sound like words.
 
The little shit refuses  the spell that Aletheia  sends his way in such a loud angry screech "YOU WON'T FUCKING DARE AGAIN!" He threatens
Aletheia - Joanna (She/her)Today at 1:25 AM
"It would've been easier if you had just come quietly."
 
The Thyrsus just looks, mostly, sad. But also kind of annoyed. Vasha can feel the shape of the Imago before Fox lets it go: she rolls to her feet, this time not bothering with a Mudra, just sending out what he can see through her eyes as a sort of green, spiraling energy that hits the goth kid right in the back of the head. The others just see Fox raise her hand, rest her thumb against the third finger of her left hand, and snap once. There's a brilliant glint of the ring she wears on that finger: Siderite, with slim bands of Brontium, Lunargent and Orichalcum.
 
"Bedtime," Fox intones.
 
The kid sort of wilts like a toddler nodding off in the middle of playtime, and starts to snore.
 
When the suspect begins to nod off, Vasha looks aside at Hearth and asks, "Do you want to say the 'go 'em' speech or is it my turn?  I forget whose turn it is for the 'got 'em' speech, and I don't want to step on toes.  I know this is an important moment in your police procedurals." Vasha slings his weapon to his shoulder while trying not to grin with more success than you'd think.
 
The rod slips from his hand, almost falling on the ground, swaying slowly in the air from Juno's spell. For a brief second, he seems like he might just be sleeping on his feet for a brief instant, snoring loudly even before his knees bend and bring him down to his knee, hard. He slumps into himself, swaying from side to side, almost waking himself up with a hilariously bad snore, before he slams face first into the concrete floor, muttering a petulant "ouch" in his sleep
 
Snores loudly, drooling on the cement
 
Hearth rolled her eyes at Vasha, but there was definitely a glimmer of amusement. "Well I'm not going to read him his rights. He's snoring anyways. Let's just bundle him up nice and snug as a bug and get him out of here so we can clean up this place properly."
 
"We're still in the quarantine so take as much time as you need. Once you're all done fixing the place up I'll drop it."
 
Juno beckons gently and brings the rod to herself, eyes roving the relic with a craftsman's curiosity and fascination, studying the object and its magic while she can. She even manages not to laugh at the violently amusing collapse to the floor of their obnoxious target. "For this, a dozen dead..?" She murmurs sadly- not out of lack of respect for the object, just- out of ache that so many died. A glance to the others. "I can turn his clothes to steel or. Whatever. On an exhale, so it does not smother him. If there is not a better idea. I leave it to you. I can help with cleanup as well."
 
Vasha bobs his head sadly, "So is my turn, I guess.  Okay fine."  Vasha then turns back to the snoring perp.  "You are being detained by the authority of the Lex Magica of the Consilium of the Martyr's Tree, Convocation of the Lesser Northeast on suspicion of magical murder of sleepers, violation of the Rite of Emeritus, interference with an officer of the Convocation in their sworn office, and murder of the same.  You have no rights to speak of and the fact that you're unconscious is irrelevant."  Vasha turns about to begin picking through the building for evidence and slash or things that ought be confiscated before they fall into the wrong hands.  "Fox can keep him like this in perpetuity.  We'll get him to the consilium gaol and they'll strip him of mana and fuddle his mind.  He'll be harmless."
 
"You do have that tactical cookie that'll burn out a chunk of his potentia," Hearth reminded him as she began to survey the building- in particular seeking out any lingering abyssal influence in the area.
 
The Rod is made out of Perfected Gold and depict a "Roaring" Lion with a Crown on its head, a design familiar to both Hearth and Little Fox. It certainly is weighted with power and history, even on a cursory glance.  It also has quite the Bonk! power with how it's designed alone, not even mentioning the potential enhancement in there.
 
Liezel... predictably... does a Liezel and gets tangled up in looking over the Rod. Studying, turning it this way and that, lost in the scrutiny of the fascinating relic, shifting through the Rod's mystery with what she knows, a touch of potentia here, a flood of it there, coaxing open the layers of opacity one after another.
It takes her all of twelve seconds.
 
And then she looks simultaneously impressed and confused.


}}
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Latest revision as of 07:20, 10 March 2021

Content Warning

Zombies

Cast
Setting

A suspicious Warehouse

Log

The mission given to them: hunt down the murderer that killed Adept Pegasus of the Fecund Coin. After a bit of the initial anger has passed, the call for an immediate death has subsided and the request to capture the perpetrator alive has been made.

He's been tracked to a warehouse which initial looks indicate he's fortified a little with mundane and magical means, though he hasn't gotten a terrible amount of time to do so. Now's the time to strike without giving him the time to dig in much harder.

Their choice of approaches are limited by chain link fences, locked doors and very high window from the ground, at least from the outside. It is currently night and lights is coming out of the windows.

Fox, sitting in the back seat of Petra's van, snickers wildly. (The van got Machine Invisibility too, because Fox had enough space in her targets). "Oh no, high windows, how ever will we get up there?" she laughs, leaning on Vasha and watching out said windows. "Oh noooooo." And the Thyrsus collapses into giggles.

Hearth had broken out her soccermom mobile for team transportation and sat in the drivers seat about a block away from the warehouse. It came complete with an old "My Kid's an honor school at Lincoln Elementary School" bumper sticker. She was dressed like a soccer mom too in black leggings, a long sleeve black shirt, and her blond hair tucked up under a cute little cloche hat. She'd passed her sword off to whomever had called shotcut and smirked back at Fox. "And fences. We could drive straight in if you'd like."

"If only we happen people with us that could manipulate the fabric of space. Gee whiz what are we going to do? I guess we have to turn back and go home then come up with a new strategy that involves all those things." snaps her fingers "Darn."

Vasha is riding shotgun because of course Vasha is riding shotgun. It helps that he has an actual shotgun. Perhaps just to assert his dibs to the position by dint of literalism. In any case, the black clad and tactically acoutremented Guardian is watching the city out the passenger side window, checking the corners and the high points. Trying to see what the others might miss.

Once they arrive, Vasha surveys the terrain with a professional eye and sucks his tooth a little. "Nice fucking vantage point. You could see a flea on a Cossack's dick from up there."

Liezel looks over the warehouse, chewing her lower lip. "That looks like the sort of place I might pick to very effectively hide that I had much more effective defenses inside," she offers quietly. "... or the place someone with no other options might hole up in. It's hard to say." She rolls her fingers, cracking her knuckles without touching them, sitting in her own black tactleneck outfit in the back.

"Vasha, hook up our brains and I'll go do a sweep." Fox sits up from leaning forward to put her chin on Vasha's shoulder, shaking out her arms loosely. "So once that's set, Someone should open a window." She wiggles happily in her seat and unbuckles her seatbelt.

There's a brief flare of magic from the front of the car, heavily subdued by the veiling magic that is woven along with it. A polite burp into the back of the hand as nimbus goes. But it ends with him seemingly a bit distracted, then nodding his head once. "We're good." His window starts to roll down, "Be safe. I'll cover you."

Hearth pulled off a necklace that had a polished bit of mistletoe wood as a pendant and held it up, seeking out the nearest hint of the abyss.

"Should we merge our minds so we can communicate without saying anything?" She offers curious if the others would be interested in such a thing

"There's a Hallow inside," Hearth said, after the pendant swung directly towards the warehouse like pendulum. "And something of the Abyss that's trying to screw with it. It might be best to shut it down before we go in."

Fox, who already has such a link with Vasha since she just asked for it, is already in the process of folding herself inward. Did everybody want to be in a van with a massive horned owl? TOO LATE, NOW YOU ARE. She carefully hops up to Vasha's shoulder, gently grooms his hair in a very familiar and affectionate way, and then hops to his lap -- gently -- and up to the car's window edge, pushing off instantly to swoop down and then up, toward the roof, invisible to prying eyes thanks to Vasha's weaving.

"I'm getting a feed from Fox. She's up." Vasha, true to his word to the owl before its departure, leans out the passenger side door with his rifle and keeps himself veiled from prying eyes. "If you want to get in on the feed, grab my left hand. I can buffer her feed for you. It can be a bit much to read unfiltered."

Aletheia is briefly pushed against the wall of the van while the owl is there with an OOOF "Big . . . Owl . . . cute though." Then suddenly they're gone "Oh thank God I can breathe again."

Liezel reaches out to take Vasha's left hand as offered, braced- she trusts him when he says it can be A Bit Much.

Hearth trusted Vasha to keep an eye on the scouting and took out a notebook, sketching out a little diagram of the place and jotting down a few runes around it, redoing a few as she worked out spell parameters.

She cuts smoothly through the air; Fox loves being birds and she is very, very good at it with Vasha's soup up. Not gonna lie, on her way up there, she does a barrel roll.

Lazy, invisible circles (save to the group, of course) way up there in the air, and Vasha gets back a constant stream. He knows how the world looks through Fox's eyes, how she instinctively sees the splashes of magic on the world. Here she sees movement in between the walls erected, made of Death and Prime, the Matter splatter on the walls. No sign of the target. But something.

This, of course, along with the overwhelming feed of wind and freedom and owl-sight and strange movements of her avian body, all gets fed directly to Vasha. It's up to him to decide what to relay.

Those willingly joining in on Vasha's offered tactical brainlink? They receive an edited version of Fox's live feed. All the rolls and jostling and weird alien body sensations-- that's all removed. The image is stabilized, the vision stripped down to only pertinent information. Space, distance, obstruction, traces of this magic and that, and pinging on the psyche like green text in a heads up display. Just the facts. Data to parse. But a few sources of stimulus to choose from rather than the millions being fed into Vasha's noggin with that direct link.

Sometimes being a buffer is a kindness.

"Might not be a bad idea to drop the hallow, Hearth. But I'd like to have an ease route through the fence sorted first, unless you'd all prefer to simply portal in and do this 'Arrow style. Doors and corners."

"I'm up for in and out. I can open it and we can all go on through and start a storm! I'm pretty open to all avenues in this case."

"Timing," she agreed. "It'd be best to drop the Hollow right before we go in so I'll be too busy to dust the fences."

"I would like a brief moment to fire on them before we move. Anything in the room with the target is going to lose a tremendous amount of potentia. That should make our jobs easier."

Vasha looks to Liezel at this point, "Can you dust the fence? We infil while Hearth drops the hallow. I can lead the team in. You can cover the route back. She can cover our withdrawal to the van." Vasha's doing that Acanthus think on his feet tactical planning stuff they talk about in film. "Which is to say, yes, you could fire the magic cannon." Vasha's grin is understanding. Maybe not all Guardians hate fun.

Hearth nodded to Liezel. "Planning on burning up the potentia with Celestial Fire?" she asked.

Flittering back to Vasha along with all of her visual input? I can handle the fence.

"Wind, but yes. Fire seems- overly aggressive, since we intend to take prisoners." Liezel nods towards Vasha, lips curling in a quiet smile, nodding again as Fox claims the fence herself. "Which is to say, I have a bullet with an awful lot of hot air meant for only the most deserving of murderers and their friends." "I am not sure if that was funny but I wanted to try."

"Fox can dust the fence from her position," Vasha relates, solving that hitch in the timing. "Three seconds to roll out, three to cross... maybe six to the entrance. So if you want to time your surprise for the hallow for nine seconds from mark, and so long as everyone is agreed on a quiet start and trying to catch him flat footed? We can do this on my mark. So."

Democracy, apparently. His hand goes up, "Who likes this stupid plan?"

"Could also turn it into essence maybe and give it to some of the local spirits? They might appreciate a gesture like that.' a shrug of her shoulders "I like the plan."

Hearth pulled a pretty little candy box, a single cookie inside (though there might have been more before). "I whipped this up earlier tonight. It should wipe out a good deal of potential. Non-lethal celestial fire."

"I like the plan," Liezel offers, glancing to Aletheia. "Do you mean turn the fence into essence? I do not know how to turn Potentia into Essence." A look at Hearth's cookie. "Does he have to eat the cookie?"

"The Potentia, the spirits would LOVE that."

She laughed. "No, you do, and you cast the spell inside it. A bit like firebreathing. It's a cinnamon gingersnap."

"It's a good idea. I just don't know how, I'm afraid." She lights up a little at the cookie description! "That's clever!"

Flickering back to Vasha, I'm not feeding what I don't know. Let me know when and I'll dust it.

"Right." Vasha says examining the confections. "I'm going to make this the pocket for my tactical pastry." An he does. He pulls out a bandage from a vest pocket and replaces the bandage with the pastry.

Nobody get shot a lot.

"Okay. On my mark, we go. Nine seconds, Hearth." And in his mind, to Fox: Three seconds, drop the fence. Then the door at ground level. We infil at ground level. Liezel's covering our infil, Hearth our retreat. And with that, he backs away from the hood of the van and begins moving around front and towards the fence line.

"Mark! Last one there is a capitalist."

Hearth had begun her ritual, chanting softly and directing her power into the Blasphemy of occluding the Hallow until it fell into dormancy. She nodded to Vasha when he gave the Mark, and released the Spell out ahead of the team.

Vasha moves with the alacrity of lightning, generally, on account of a little Acanthus intercession. And he moves with absolute faith that the fence won't be there when he's going to be passing through it. Full steam ahead, because he said mark, and that started a clock, and these people are all professionals.

Active mage sight up, filtering Fox's owl-cam feed, relaying the things that are popping up out of his fate sight, trying not to overwhelm those sharing in his brain, but receive only the sense he gleans from it all. He scans the shadows over the barrel of his rifle, checks the sky above, the trees, the fence line. And double-checks the angles of objects Fox can't see from her perch overhead. Feeding useful intel back her way, too.

On Vasha's mark, the fence dissipates, a whole section of it crumbling to dust. The owl circles down, then, and continues to circle a few feet over their heads, using the owl's keen eyesight to keep an eye on everyone's safety.

"Well allons y!" She says enthusiastically and starts to follow after the others, moving as quickly as she can thanks to the Acceleration, that isn't much of a problem

The Fence gets dusted, the hole is big enough for them to go through, the group moves to the door and as they reach it, they all feel Hearth's magic suppresses and dismantle the hallow that she can sense over there. They reach the front door, without issues and find it already unlocked, the lock already fucked up beyond repair.

A somewhat high-pitched scream of anger is heard from inside of the warehouse, noise begin to rise inside.

The lock being all but destroyed, it is a simple thing for the door to open with a short whistle of the wind, or a gently push of the shoulder. Beyond it lies what seems to be a lobby, a few coats hanging from a rack and a few pair of shoes. A door that's marked "break room" is further on their right, with a few lockers there too.

Another entry, with the door cleanly removed from its hinges is in front of them, almost exactly, which obviously leads to the larger part of the building, several racks and shelves are seen, filled with various boxes, but there's plenty of space in between.

Movement can be seen heading toward them from behind and between the shelves and racks.

Beyond that, behind the racks and shelves seems to be a partially enclosed space. All of the mages peripheral sights picks up a lot of strangeness.

The owl circles overhead until she's sure everyone is safely through the door and into the building, at which point Fox swoops down out of the sky and unfolds into her humanoid form, still concealed from cameras and prying eyes both by her magic and Vasha's. She filters the flashes of magic that she sees over to Vasha: Death, mostly, some Prime, and then a splash of Matter, like cream into coffee. Fox says nothing, just takes her place at the Acanthus' right hand.

The lock being all but destroyed, it is a simple thing for the door to open with a short whistle of the wind, or a gently push of the shoulder. Beyond it lies what seems to be a lobby, a few coats hanging from a rack and a few pair of shoes. A door that's marked "break room" is further on their right, with a few lockers there too.

Another entry, with the door cleanly removed from its hinges is in front of them, almost exactly, which obviously leads to the larger part of the building, several racks and shelves are seen, filled with various boxes, but there's plenty of space in between.

Movement can be seen heading toward them from behind and between the shelves and racks.

Beyond that, behind the racks and shelves seems to be a partially enclosed space. All of the mages peripheral sights picks up a lot of strangeness.

The owl circles overhead until she's sure everyone is safely through the door and into the building, at which point Fox swoops down out of the sky and unfolds into her humanoid form, still concealed from cameras and prying eyes both by her magic and Vasha's. She filters the flashes of magic that she sees over to Vasha: Death, mostly, some Prime, and then a splash of Matter, like cream into coffee. Fox says nothing, just takes her place at the Acanthus' right hand.

Vasha's mind broadcasts the traces of magic in the area as red splotches to be clearly avoided, their arcana neatly described in a handsome Arial font. The movement he's spotted heading their way gets the old flashing red highlights of 'possible threat' coming their way, and Vasha rolls off to the right and adopts a rifleman's crouch to prepare to open up if what's coming their way warrants it.

What is it? he wonders of the former owl at his side. The thing closing on them, that is. He takes a moment to aim in preparation, but doesn't announce his presence or warn the creatures off. Which probably shouldn't surprise anyone too much.

Liezel brings up the rear as planned, alert and at the ready to defend her and hers, fascinated by the effects of Mind-filtered information, like the world's best-curated HUD. She's at the ready herself, staring silently at the approaching movement, trying to get a feel for what it might be before conflict is foisted upon them and gauge whether it's a worthy target for her Silver Bullet or not.


"I'm going to make this infinitely easier and wipe this section from existence. Bare with me for a moment. It'll prevent anyone from remembering this place or from leaving it." : Aletheia for a moment grabs a hold of her pendent and places a hand on her weapon, calling upon the power within it :


As the Quarantine spell weaves around the warehouse, preventing entry and such, the movement from behind the shelves becomes clearer and closer! 8 men shamble at an alarming speed toward them, dead and dessicated obviously, sporting a strange black armor made out of a strange material, which also wraps around their fist. They advance relentlessly toward the intruders with aggressive groans.


The creatures lunge toward them, and Fox shows Vasha the splash of Death she sees out of the corner of her eye, not the zombies but something else, hidden. Her fingers form a Matter Imago -- yeah, Guardians mostly do that, but guess who's been living with Guardians for twelve years? -- and she bares her teeth at the dessicated bodies, hissing at them through those sharp, vulpine teeth as she flings the formed Imago; it splits up and rolls out across the room and their armor drifts down into ash like Fox just performed a very specific Thanos Snap. With Mage Sight up, Fox's Nimbus is a flare of bright green, cut grass, and petrichor, and the feeling of staring into the eyes of a faithful canid friend, warm and reassuring.

The Armors crumbles, but not to ashes, into shattered, crystalline fragments that hits the ground, some of them turning to dust under the crippling spell. The spiked armament around their wrist, made out of the same material, remains, a different effect and item, it appears the item are made out of Potentia and tass.

It's a quick assessment to conclude this is not their target, which means it's not time to unleash Supernal Winds. The hot air can wait. Instead, grimacing in personal distaste for the abuse of the bodies, Liezel raises her voice in a wordless dirge, melancholy and apologetic, as she reaches for the Supernal threads she suspects hold the bodies in thrall, attempting to command the Death out of the threads- and scowling in irritation as they prove resilient, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth.

No dice.

The spell remain steadfast against the dispelling attempt, wobbling against the attempt, the zombies continue to march forward. (failure to dispel) Aletheia - Joanna (She/her)Today at 12:03 AM Aletheia holds tight to her personification symbol that the Solomoist carries with her at all time. She then simply points out to five of the zombies. "What's dead must remain dead, you are a lie and lies must be destroyed."

The moment she is done speaking space seems to crumble in and around the zombies ripping and tearing at what flesh is upon their skeletons, most likely leaving minimal remains, 8A TheUserWin - She/TheyToday at 12:06 AM The five zombies are paste on the ground now, completely destroyed by that magical attack.

Hearth was bringing up the rear of their little party. She held a stone bowl in one hand and her mistletoe wood pendant in the other. She was content to let the others take the offense while she focused on the defense, keeping her Sights- Matter and Death but particularly Prime up for any sign of an incoming attack that she could counter.

Vasha waits until the last possible moment to unleash a rather controlled volley from his AK-47. It sounds more like wood blocks smacking together than a proper rifle, which may be due to some customized gizmo or other. Point being, the civilian mind might not immediately associate that with rifle fire. Not that this matters in the pocket dimension, really.

Down range, the rounds zip like hornets through the as yet animated flesh of the remaining zombies. Well aimed, at or near that l'il old brain stem.

The zombies that remain are filled with lead and keep stumbling forward, mostly unbothered by the holes, but now splattering blood on the floor, leaving disgusting tracks beneath them. From within one of the four spots the Magi had discovered earlier, they feel magic emanate, or rather slither out like a tendril of darkness, the shadows grow longer and it turns a little colder for a brief moment.

The Tendril split into five and snake their way toward the invading Magis and just went the darkness is about to wrap around them, to desiccate them the same way, same manner as the rest of the guy's victim?

The Darkness recoils violently from the brightest flame... @Petra/Rosalyn/Hearth pose your counterspell!

Hearth stepped forward towards the slithering darkness, standing between it and the others. She burned with a primal fire and drew a rune of warding and purification in the air before her, and set it out against the tendrils of darkness, burning them away.

The remaining 3 zombies runs into the group attacking Vasily, then Fox, that one falls flat on its face, slipping on its own blood and then one slams into Liezel with impressive force, but get stopped by the armor

Vasha doesn't seem much to mind having a zombie up in his grill. He nimbly sidesteps it as the inconvenience it is proving to be, and then considers the present chess board and its lack of visible pieces. He conveys a thought over the link about attempting to bring the suspect out of hiding and into custody with this One Wierd Trick. (Suspects hate him!) But the intent is there. He's trying to flush the bad guy out somehow. Message conveyed.

In the more visceral meatspace, Vasha lifts his hand from the trigger of his rifle, shifts it through a few subtle mudras sufficient to conjure one hell of an Imago which sends his nimbus flaring up like a ballpeen hammer. Reality distorts and time distends around his person. He can be seen to be taking three dozen actions at once, and therefore none at all, though it all resolves to him hurling the Imago at the center of the floor and causing a splash of silver tinted magic splattering just about everywhere. Through fate sight, it's as though Vasha's become a singularity. A black hole around which the next several moments depend entirely.

Cos they do.

The dead rise and do their damnedest to savage the invading mages. Death itself is turned against them.

And collectively, they say No.

Hearth, first, shuts down their aggressor, dissolving his spell in Primal fire, warding away the magick before it can affect them. The zombies crash towards Vasha (laughable), Fox (hilarious), and then Liezel, visibly unarmored and exposed. The dead thing lashes out and slams into her, driving her back a step and shoving the breath from her lungs in a grunt- but accomplishing nearly nothing in the face of the tremendous integrity of her magically enhanced clothing.

She retakes the step lost.

She raises her voice again, her Nimbus full of thunder and song, rising in intensity as she lashes out with one hand to grip the dead by the throat. And, as the drums, the voices, reach a crescendo- Light flares through the dark threads animating the creature and rips it to shreds, sundering the spell entirely as the drums go silent. And Liezel? She lets the body fall and brings her hand back in. So she can brush a rotted fingernail off the shoulder just struck.

The Zombie falls, un-animated, inert

Fox crouches, and her fingers curl in a Matter Mudra that brings the earth jutting up underneath two other Zombies, knocking against them and curling fingers around them and crushing them. Like you do. TheUserWin - She/TheyToday at 1:04 AM The Earth almost swallows the Zombies, rendering them completely useless without significant repairs, which they don't seem to be getting at all right now.

Hearth had chased back the darkness of the spell but didn't let up. She immediately continued continued to chant, fingers flicking and sending an arrow of primal fire to burn back the darkness of one of the places where Death had collected, dismantling the spell completely.

The Four Spots of death that they were seeing, from which magic sometimes came through dissappear in the same bright flash of flame, the spell having been destroyed, a young man re-materialize with a scowl on his face.

A generally goth outlook, dark hair, dark clothes, deep eyes and a sickeing gleam about him to anyone with Mage Sight up. In his hand is a asburdly ostentatious golden rod with the head of a crowned lion.

He's shaking with rage. "HOW DARE YOU!!?" it's so loud, so angry that it barely sound like words.

The little shit refuses the spell that Aletheia sends his way in such a loud angry screech "YOU WON'T FUCKING DARE AGAIN!" He threatens Aletheia - Joanna (She/her)Today at 1:25 AM "It would've been easier if you had just come quietly."

The Thyrsus just looks, mostly, sad. But also kind of annoyed. Vasha can feel the shape of the Imago before Fox lets it go: she rolls to her feet, this time not bothering with a Mudra, just sending out what he can see through her eyes as a sort of green, spiraling energy that hits the goth kid right in the back of the head. The others just see Fox raise her hand, rest her thumb against the third finger of her left hand, and snap once. There's a brilliant glint of the ring she wears on that finger: Siderite, with slim bands of Brontium, Lunargent and Orichalcum.

"Bedtime," Fox intones.

The kid sort of wilts like a toddler nodding off in the middle of playtime, and starts to snore.

When the suspect begins to nod off, Vasha looks aside at Hearth and asks, "Do you want to say the 'go 'em' speech or is it my turn? I forget whose turn it is for the 'got 'em' speech, and I don't want to step on toes. I know this is an important moment in your police procedurals." Vasha slings his weapon to his shoulder while trying not to grin with more success than you'd think.

The rod slips from his hand, almost falling on the ground, swaying slowly in the air from Juno's spell. For a brief second, he seems like he might just be sleeping on his feet for a brief instant, snoring loudly even before his knees bend and bring him down to his knee, hard. He slumps into himself, swaying from side to side, almost waking himself up with a hilariously bad snore, before he slams face first into the concrete floor, muttering a petulant "ouch" in his sleep

Snores loudly, drooling on the cement

Hearth rolled her eyes at Vasha, but there was definitely a glimmer of amusement. "Well I'm not going to read him his rights. He's snoring anyways. Let's just bundle him up nice and snug as a bug and get him out of here so we can clean up this place properly."

"We're still in the quarantine so take as much time as you need. Once you're all done fixing the place up I'll drop it."

Juno beckons gently and brings the rod to herself, eyes roving the relic with a craftsman's curiosity and fascination, studying the object and its magic while she can. She even manages not to laugh at the violently amusing collapse to the floor of their obnoxious target. "For this, a dozen dead..?" She murmurs sadly- not out of lack of respect for the object, just- out of ache that so many died. A glance to the others. "I can turn his clothes to steel or. Whatever. On an exhale, so it does not smother him. If there is not a better idea. I leave it to you. I can help with cleanup as well."

Vasha bobs his head sadly, "So is my turn, I guess. Okay fine." Vasha then turns back to the snoring perp. "You are being detained by the authority of the Lex Magica of the Consilium of the Martyr's Tree, Convocation of the Lesser Northeast on suspicion of magical murder of sleepers, violation of the Rite of Emeritus, interference with an officer of the Convocation in their sworn office, and murder of the same. You have no rights to speak of and the fact that you're unconscious is irrelevant." Vasha turns about to begin picking through the building for evidence and slash or things that ought be confiscated before they fall into the wrong hands. "Fox can keep him like this in perpetuity. We'll get him to the consilium gaol and they'll strip him of mana and fuddle his mind. He'll be harmless."

"You do have that tactical cookie that'll burn out a chunk of his potentia," Hearth reminded him as she began to survey the building- in particular seeking out any lingering abyssal influence in the area.

The Rod is made out of Perfected Gold and depict a "Roaring" Lion with a Crown on its head, a design familiar to both Hearth and Little Fox. It certainly is weighted with power and history, even on a cursory glance. It also has quite the Bonk! power with how it's designed alone, not even mentioning the potential enhancement in there.

Liezel... predictably... does a Liezel and gets tangled up in looking over the Rod. Studying, turning it this way and that, lost in the scrutiny of the fascinating relic, shifting through the Rod's mystery with what she knows, a touch of potentia here, a flood of it there, coaxing open the layers of opacity one after another. It takes her all of twelve seconds.

And then she looks simultaneously impressed and confused.