All of you notice that there is a long black string stretched across the door, and it seems to be rigged with magic to something going back inside the building.
There Will Be Blood
There Will Be Blood
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169
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41 - 50
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All of you notice that there is a long black string stretched across the door, and it seems to be rigged with magic to something going back inside the building.
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The ants are a surprise. Before Tug can try to take control of the swarm himself, his fellow Sentinels have taken care of it. "Nice," he whistles admiringly of their quick casting. "You too, Tamwood."
Tug nods at Falx, thankful for the warning and that whatever else was waiting for them inside, it didn't affect ectoplasm. "Falx says there's a bomb," he tells the group quietly. "But he added in all this weird...uh..." the Shaman tries to mimic his brother's movements, "that either means its spell-work or full of glitter. I'm not good at charades but I doubt its stripper-dust. Probably whatever's attached to that string there." Tug is a master of the obvious, but not of scrutiny. "Anyone got a clue what they've woven into the cord?"
5 sux perception, 2 sux on scrut
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Mike nods to Tug to show his appreciation. It was good to feel like being part of the group. That is, if he wasn't the only one who didn't know who Falx was.
'Who's Falx?' A spirit, a ghost.... his imaginary friend? One answer would lead to the other, so the Moros quickly casts one of his most used spells. The one that makes him see the dead.
He also arches an eyebrow at the further things the big man said, still Mike decides to scrutinize again.
Speak with the Dead + Scrutinize 6 suxx
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West watched the river of Time drift by, lazily, inevitably flowing toward the future. He wove threads of Time itself into a mirror, slipping it into the stream in front of himself, inverting the view for him to see.
What happens if I break the thread?
Divination (MtA p.263), 2 successes
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The attack on the Circle had weighed on Animus. A strike at there home base compounded by his inability to come to his Cabalmate and friend's need.
It couldn't stand at that.
Before long, the Thyrsus arrives in his beat-up old Honda Civic, making his way toward the building senses encompassing the nearby life. Suddenly thousands of tiny flickers wink out, leaving a void like a punch to the gut. Worry flares through him as a connection is forged with the supernal, unasked. He breaks into a run, the eternal certainty of death impinging on his vision.
Harried glances are thrown toward the other Arrows as he catches up to them. "What's going on? Wh-what just happened?"
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"We're picking new Shadow Names," West deadpanned.
He stabbed a thumb at Joshua.
"He's Orkin, now."
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Joshua turns at Animus' approach and greets him with a half-wave as a wind rises up and brushes the dead ants away from the door. He ignores his new christening and looks at the cord stretched low across the door. "We can get in without disturbing the line," he says to no one in particular. "Anyone sense anything beyond the door? Traps beyond that will activate if we go in?" And his hands quickly touch together as he extends his own senses out, searching first for the sharp tang and grit of gunpowder, then the waxy touch of plastic explosive.
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Tug finds that the cord is filled with magic, so much so that its nearly blinding but the only thing you can figure out is a fate spell woven into it.
Mike you see Flax, and then you turn to see the cord. There is a low amount of mater spells on it. You identify it as a spell to strenthen the thread.
West you watch as the cord, held taunt, snaps , whipping back and away from you into the circle. There are a few tense seconds of silence and then the world around you explodes.
Josh, there is a whole shit ton of plastic explosives, and gun powder galore. There are, scattered through out the compond at LEAST 20 different sites that are rigged to blow. You also note that this is a rather complex series of sites, and any one trip wire might be able to set all of them off.
The Banishers, you all come to realize very quickly, mean some significant amount of business.
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Technique, almost lazily, pulls out the burnt wood hourglass medallion, silent but focused. He pulls the supernal down to the fallen world, paying the cost in Mana to pull the spell through the Abyss intact. Sand flies out from between his hands, ethereal and ghostly in its immaterial nature. It flies upwards, coating the archway around the Circle of Creations front door. The sand adheres to the arches, glowing softly silver for just a split second before returning to normal. "Well, if anything happens, well be fine."
Stuff
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Animus shoots West a confused glance before his gaze wanders around the entrance, a shudder running through his body.
Tech's remark flies past him without comment. It was just too difficult to imagine being fine while seeing the potential of death inherent in everything on which his eyes fell.
Maybe he'd need to ask Joshua how he made peace with it.
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