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You're a Wizard, Harry


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It was nice to know that none of them trusted each other, didn’t really help her in the current situation. Another massive bluff was in order.

She adopted Giselle's angry and indignant tone, something she had plenty of experience of in the short time she’d known her.

“After all I’ve went through to recover this sniveling little worm, you want to lower myself to mere parlor tricks?â€

She strode over confidently and pulled “Harold†so they were face to face.

“You might as well get this idiot to open the door.†She raised her eyebrows and looked at the door trying to subtle ask Nick if her could actually do such a thing.

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Nick took a look at the door. The more he looked at it, the more sigils started to make sense - but he had the distinct feeling that he was watching a snake coiling up and preparing to strike. Okay, there's got to be some command on this door... something I can say to get it to open... wait. Hinges, knob, lock - it's still a door, even with all the magical graffiti. So...

He muttered something under his breath. The lock clicked open and the door swung outwards, hitting the group in the face with the stink of brimstone. But before they could cross the threshold, the Norse man grabbed Nick by the collar.

"Hold," he said. "I felt it. The stuff of death. What are you doing with necromancy, Harold?"

"Extracurriculars," Nick said. "Took some lessons with Teacher to try and save my skin."

"No..." The dog-man got closer to Nick. "I smell... death... fresh death... and..." He let out a terrible howl. "Not Harold! Not Harold!"

The Moroccan lady drew her dagger. "It's a trick!" she screamed. "Get the intruders!"

Oh, well. At least we managed to get the door open...

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The necromancer in the fatigues began chanting something that sounded like it had been pried out of a death rattle in some language Nick couldn't interpret - is that Futhark? Would make sense. The shadows grew longer around him, as a voice began to whisper into his ears.

"You've tasted death, have you? How nice. I've learned words that reapers whispered to the first of the dying, the elegies that were made to be sung to all Creation on the last day. I know what death is."

"That must be nice for you,"' Nick said. Ectoplasm pooled around his fists, settling into rough and scabrous gloves. He drove one ghost-mailed fist into the necromancer's midsection, and connected with a follow-up blow to the chin. "Means you're learning the basics. Call me when you know what death means."

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Lucy tilted her head to one side and gave a little shrug.

“Sorry I can’t be of any help, but I skipped the whole death thing and when straight into being un-dead.â€

Lucy threw a punch towards the necromancer. It wasn’t quite as fancy as other methods she had seen over the last couple of months, but it did seem to work in most circumstances. It seemed to connect with a very satisfying sound.

She gave another of her little smiles “I didn’t know that we had to pass a test for the whole death thing. I didn’t even manage to pass the practical.â€

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The Penitent's eyes darted among the people, picking out a target. Finally, his eyes locked onto the Moroccan woman. He surged forward, first his hand extending to grab the wrist holding the dagger, before he put his free hand on her shoulder, forcing her to the ground and landing on top of her, hoping to keep the sorceress out of comission for just a little while.

"Now, I may just be ignorant, but I'm pretty sure allying yourself with the forces of Hell counts as shirk, you know?" He smirked "Now I get how you could make a mistake about that. You get a letter offering you the chance to get a free toaster, turns out you have to sell your soul to get it, but your old toaster broke and you really needed this one, so before you know it you're allied with Iblis and are working for evil. It happens to everyone once in a while."

He laughed to himself. "Now, before you tell me I am annoying or obnoxious, I already know. I consider it my best trait."

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"I imagine you would," said the Moroccan woman. "Insouciance is the armor of those who don't have anything original to say." The Penitent felt a sensation like a fishing hook latching onto the base of his brain. He looked down, and where the woman had been was a demon, reeking of brimstone and with arms of stone, crowned with cruel talons. She let out a shriek of the damned and took a swing at him as the hook in his brain tugged, rending his sensations.

"And big words thrown about willy-nilly are the mark of someone who wants to sound smarter than they are," said Nick. His target wasn't the illusionist; Penitent seemed to have her wrapped up pretty tight. Instead, he brought his fists down on the prone Norseman, catching him right in the jaw and sending him into unconsciousness. "Hmm. You'd think a guy who's swam the waters of life and death might have a better constitution."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Keeping her eye on everyone else she carried on her assault on her original target. One thing she’d learnt in her years was never to leave an injured opponent; they tended to be the most dangerous of them all. Still they seemed to be winning for now, well at least not failing badly, so that was a plus.

“I’d lecture you on the errors of your way and how you all one wrong side, but I’d doubt you’d listern. My I suggest instead you all surrender and let us do what necessary?â€

As she spoke she gave a series of quick efficient little blows to her target, it didn’t do to waste opportunities like that, and may go some ways to convince them to give up the fight.

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The Penitent winced, as the pain seared through his mind, and on instinct, his head jerked back, and then slammed forward, pulling the Illusionist up against the hard keratin as it slammed into her face. He looked down at her.

"Now you might not believe this, but headbutting you in the face was not actually my intention. Listen, everything aside, is this really what you want? Damnation in return for just a little power here on Earth for only a little while? Eternity is a long time, kiddo. You might want to reconsider before you make yourself a permanent slave to the devil. No Earthly power is worth that."

He looked around at the other fallen opponents, and a pang of guilt surged through him. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid. He didn't want to hit kids, even if they were almost adults. They deserved so much better than this... What was it that made them go rogue? Did power really do that to people? He imagined they had been in powerless situations themselves and this was perceived as some sort of improvement. But maybe they really were just... No, he couldn't let himself think that way. People were, in fact, basically good.

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"'Earthly' power?" said the illusionist, spitting in Penitent's face. "We deal in things much stronger than that. We deal in the very matter of creation, the words that bind and hold all of substance together. It's worth the price. It's worth every price." She looked on the edge of breakdown, as if reliving some sordid memory - but her resolve turned to steel, and she stared daggers at the sin-eater. And the daggers cut deep, as phantom barbs tore into his head once more.

"Even your own soul?" Nick said. "You really must not know what that's worth if you're willing to bargain it away for pennies." He matched the illusionist's phantom attack with his own, as blue, ghostly flame leapt from his hands and wrapped around her crown, turning her head into a phantom bonfire. "Have you gotten a chance to take a look around down here? Something tells me Teacher's not going to give you preferential treatment once you end up down here full time."

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Lucy gave a little frown at the comments of the remaining woman, and all of the young men and women they had met down here “Has no one learnt anything since Faust? And that was just a cautionary tale.†A possible realization dawned “That was just a story right, I mean it didn’t really happen?â€

She spun around to the last member standing and using her own momentum planted a kick on onto the other woman catching her full in the stomach.

“I suppose there an age when you think you can make a deal and avoid all the pitfalls everyone else has fallen to, or did you all just not care about the consequences? You’re lucky where all here to try and save you, whether you want to or not.â€

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"You will never --" Revenant didn't get a chance to figure out what she wouldn't do, as the gut shot cut the Moroccan woman's taunt off with a grunt of agony. The sheer force of the blow sent her reeling, and soon she was lost to unconsciousness.

"'Never' is one hell of a strong word," Nick said. The wafting aroma of brimstone drew his attention to whatever lay beyond the narrow doorway, and it wasn't a pleasant thought. "Then again, I guess that's a bad choice of words. We may want to take account before we plunge right into the pit."

Nick noticed the damage the Penitent had taken during the fracas - whatever hooks the illusionist had worked into him had torn deep. He approached the man, trying to take account of damage amongst the swirling storm of ectoplasm that was the tide of souls anchored to him. Drawing on his own store of ectoplasm, Nick was able to halt the flow of cell death in the Penitent, encouraging rent tissue to knit itself. "So I see you're carrying some weight," he said, trying to sound casual. "I'm assuming you're on the side of the angels, given all you've done to help thus far... but I'm kinda curious why you're serving as an anchor."

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The Penitent was looking down sadly at the girl who had fallen unconscious in his grasp, letting her drop and sighing as he looked at the others. His face looked much older, suddenly, and he seemed a bit more human as he slowly rose to his feet, turning to face Nick.

"I wanted to help these kids, not beat the tar out of them. The girl was obviously hurtin'..." His accent was coming through a little stronger.

He forced a smile at Nick's question, but it was obvious he was fighting a burning in his throat. "Well, it's a long story. I had just come back from seminary school, you know? I was planning to be a preacher, because I was a good little Christian kid. Well, when I came back, I was told there was something special planned for me. Something big. When I found out what all the hubbub was, I was told I had a pure heart, and this meant I was destined to be the Penitent... I come from a community of sin-eaters, we take the burden of other people's sins and put them onto ourselves. That's our thing. Goes all the back to the early days of Christendom in Scotland, apparently."

He rubbed the back of his head.

"Well, being this pure-hearted kid, they told me that I could be bound to a thousand souls, all damned, who would have been good if not for specific circumstances. These repentant souls were bound to me, of their own will, and I'm given a chance to help them earn their way onto Paradise. Or so I'm told. Unfortunately, there's some drawbacks. Can't enter churches or I'll die... So I can't be ordained. Heck, no synagogues or mosques either. Additionally, someone can hold me back with the symbols of my faith. Bit of a bummer, I guess. I suppose it was in case I wasn't really pure and went nutso with the sudden burden of new sins on my shoulders. Still kind of a pain to be excluded for the only job I'm trained for."

He shrugged gently.

"But I do what I can to help. Try and steer people onto the right path and make sure that the decent folk are kept safe from people who are misguided for whatever reason."

He looked back at the fallen folk solemnly.

"Which is why I wanna help these kids. I'm havin' a feeling that they're not really bad... Well, few people really are. I think these kids just made a really bad choice and I don't want them to have to pay for it for all eternity."

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“I wish I could offer you some words of comfort Penitent. All I can do is promise you that if in the future I can I will help you, no questions asked.†She was confident that unlike some she had dealt with in the past he wouldn’t dream of misusing her promise.

“We still have five of this poor souls, if you pardon the term, to deal with plus there mysterious teacher. And I beside what Shakespeare claims I doubt that Hell is empty. There must be something we can use as an advantage, something we can do to tip the balance in our favor?â€

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Nick listened to the Penitent's story intently, taking it all in. "You're doing good work," he said after a while. "Taking on the burdens of the dead isn't an easy thing. Hell, I usually just do it viscerally. But you're helping to lead them onto something better. That's an incredible responsibility... and an incredible reward."

He turned back to the unconscious infernalists, studying them. "As for these lost souls... I think I know how to get them out of this," he said. "There really isn't such a thing as 'teamwork' down in Hell. Just making sure you get into place so you can stab them in the back first. I imagine this 'Teacher' puts a lot of stock in his students - after all, he's grooming the next generation of black magic. So we go to Teacher first, blackmail him... then maybe sell him out anyway, or kick his ass for good measure, to make sure enough of Hell's on his ass that he can't pull this act again for some time." He looked down the dark tunnel, the smell of rotten eggs still wafting up towards him. "Mind you, we've got to find him first..."

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  • 3 weeks later...

“So all we have to do is find a specific demon, in hell none the less, and then try and convince them to give up there hard won souls. Well that shouldn’t be too difficult.†She gave a cheery smile.

“But this is my first time in hell, so I’m not quite sure on the layout. Unless Dante knew more about the layout of hell than he was letting on I'm not going to be much help.â€

She stuck her hands into her pockets and looked thoughtful for a few seconds.

“Could we pick up some kind of guide? I mean I know we can’t trust anyone down here, but I sure a promise of a promotion might get a little loyalty.â€

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  • 3 weeks later...

"Nnn, I dunno. I'm not sure we'll be finding anyone like that down here." Bram said thoughtfully.

Scratching at his cheek, he scanned around.

"Well, I'm ready whenever y'all are..."

He looked back at both of them. "And thanks again. I'm really glad to be working with you guys." He turned back. "WELL, before I turn to mush we better make a hustle and decide what to do before some of those demons decide to check out what's going on."

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Nick could never get used to how much Hell reeked. That was funny, coming from a necromancer, who had as many words for "rot" and "decay" and "putrescence" as the Inuits of poorly-told anecdotes had for "snow." But walking through graveyards and Underworlds, the smell of death felt natural, like a byproduct of a process that bore no direct malice or ill will. The stench of the pit, however - one of sulphur, bile, and burning blood - was seemingly designed as yet another assault on the senses.

This part of Hell was desert caves, running in and out from rough-hewn walls. Inverted temples and defiled palaces stood out amongst the black earth, reminding Nick of dark parodies of Petra. Demons moved in and out of the caves, and from deep within, he could hear the shrieks of the damned. "All right," he muttered. "Hell's a prison just like any other. Which means prison rules. If you're trying to survive, find the big guy and suck up. But if you're trying to make an impression..."

His eyes fell on a shrunken imp resting in front of a cave, with skin the color of broken emeralds, horns like a goat, and a jaw like an angler fish. "...find the little guy and get scary." He twisted his hand - it was hard to work with death here, as Hell wasn't so much about repose as it was torment. But there was still enough necrotic energy that wasn't bound up in the tortured forms of the damned to craft an invisible hand that seized the tiny imp from its perch and dragged it forward.

"The demon known as 'Teacher.' You got any idea?"

"Yes! Yes!" The imp's voice was like a buzzsaw that had inhaled helium. "Will lead! Just let go!"

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The one thing that constantly amazed her since she’d returned was how little thing like this didn’t bother her in the slightest. Hell wasn’t exactly what she’d expected, Dante had a lot to answer for, but it didn’t seem that out of character either. She would have expected it to have stronger odour though.

Nick plan made a certain amount of sense but she hadn’t had much experience with demons, so they trusted the others to do the actual negotiation. It everything went wrong, well then she could put her unique talents to work.

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