Harry Dresden in Elcenia
Harry sighs. "It's... good, I guess, to meet you, my name is Harry, conjure it at your own risk. And try not conjuring me, either. And- indicative things- that is irrelevant, I didn't say anything, nothing was said. Anyway. I'm kind of quietly amazed that you can do terrestrial summoning and you haven't heard of the Vampire War, but long story short vampires are dicks, I killed a bunch of them, now they're kind of at war with the wizards and most particularly at war with me. They would really like me dead."
At the mention of spells out of old books, Harry would feel an urge to spit on the ground and turn around twice, but he's not actually a grizzled prospector. Instead, he puts on his most potent Warden Face. "And as a warden of the White Council, I'd like to inform you that spells out of old books are a terrible idea. They lead to things like Chicago being eaten by necromantic death tornadoes. That kind of thing can get your fool head chopped off for being a warlock." This ominous pronouncement is slightly weakened by the fact that he's wearing only a threadbare towel. Most of his pronouncements will probably be weakened by that, really. "It's good that you checked you can reverse the spell, though. Some idiots do this stuff on a whim and just assume that whatever they do can be reversed, because why would magic ever permanently inconvenience them?" (He's not talking to his past self here, why on earth would you think that? That's very uncharitable and not at all true.)
At the mention of spells out of old books, Harry would feel an urge to spit on the ground and turn around twice, but he's not actually a grizzled prospector. Instead, he puts on his most potent Warden Face. "And as a warden of the White Council, I'd like to inform you that spells out of old books are a terrible idea. They lead to things like Chicago being eaten by necromantic death tornadoes. That kind of thing can get your fool head chopped off for being a warlock." This ominous pronouncement is slightly weakened by the fact that he's wearing only a threadbare towel. Most of his pronouncements will probably be weakened by that, really. "It's good that you checked you can reverse the spell, though. Some idiots do this stuff on a whim and just assume that whatever they do can be reversed, because why would magic ever permanently inconvenience them?" (He's not talking to his past self here, why on earth would you think that? That's very uncharitable and not at all true.)
Harry looks absolutely poleaxed at the phrase "another world." There are no other worlds, there's the physical realm and the Nevernever and-
the Outside. Great. He's been summoned by teenage Outsiders. They don't look particularly tentacled, but stereotypes have never helped anyone. For a moment he wonders, inanely, if they're going to get in trouble for reaching beyond the Outer Gates. Then he remembers that they would like nothing better than to weaken the fabric of reality, so they probably aren't all that careful about the Laws of Magic.
But... he hasn't met that many Outsiders, but the ones he's seen somehow make him doubt that they come in "giggling teenager" flavor. Maybe there are more things outside of heaven and earth than are etcetera etcetera. He doesn't really know how he'd test it, without possibly aiming his Sight at a pair of Outsiders, though. Which he isn't really keen on. He likes keeping his brain where it is.
"Yeah, if you can do spells backward we definitely have different kinds of magic," he says instead of freaking out at the nice possibly-tentacle-monsters. "And if you have vampire friends, I'm pretty sure we have different vampires too. Unless they happen to be sparkly and eat sex energy, in which case I'd be kind of a hypocrite to knock you for it."
the Outside. Great. He's been summoned by teenage Outsiders. They don't look particularly tentacled, but stereotypes have never helped anyone. For a moment he wonders, inanely, if they're going to get in trouble for reaching beyond the Outer Gates. Then he remembers that they would like nothing better than to weaken the fabric of reality, so they probably aren't all that careful about the Laws of Magic.
But... he hasn't met that many Outsiders, but the ones he's seen somehow make him doubt that they come in "giggling teenager" flavor. Maybe there are more things outside of heaven and earth than are etcetera etcetera. He doesn't really know how he'd test it, without possibly aiming his Sight at a pair of Outsiders, though. Which he isn't really keen on. He likes keeping his brain where it is.
"Yeah, if you can do spells backward we definitely have different kinds of magic," he says instead of freaking out at the nice possibly-tentacle-monsters. "And if you have vampire friends, I'm pretty sure we have different vampires too. Unless they happen to be sparkly and eat sex energy, in which case I'd be kind of a hypocrite to knock you for it."
That would be a point towards alternate-universe vampires, then. In which case Harry has probably just accidentally sounded racist against some perfectly nice bloodsuckers. Fantastic. "Okay, there are three types of vampire in my world. The Black Court are basically walking evil corpses; they're the worst and they should be destroyed whenever they show up. The Red Court, who want me dead, are awful rubbery demon-things that drink blood and enslave people a lot; they are also the worst and should be destroyed. The White Court are beautiful sparkly folks who feed on spirit energy through sex. Or fear or despair, but the sexy ones seem like the most common. They're sometimes alright, weaselly bastards though they may be."
Harry is prepared to give these weird Outsider vampires the benefit of the doubt, for however long these weird girls are going to keep him trapped in a circle. He doesn't exactly have high hopes for them given their counterparts in his world, though.
Harry is prepared to give these weird Outsider vampires the benefit of the doubt, for however long these weird girls are going to keep him trapped in a circle. He doesn't exactly have high hopes for them given their counterparts in his world, though.
"Those don't sound like the same things as each other, let alone regular vampires," says Korulen.
"I'm not sure this offworlder is the best offworlder. Maybe we should put him back and get another one," says Saasnil.
"It's random, the spell's random," says Korulen, "if we put him back and get another one it'll just be another random person who might not be any more to your liking, and it doesn't matter for proving we could do the spell."
"I guess."
"I'm not sure this offworlder is the best offworlder. Maybe we should put him back and get another one," says Saasnil.
"It's random, the spell's random," says Korulen, "if we put him back and get another one it'll just be another random person who might not be any more to your liking, and it doesn't matter for proving we could do the spell."
"I guess."
That's kind of what Harry's hoping for, but he bristles at the judgment anyway. "Well excuse me for not being some kind of perfectly inoffensive hippie or something. I tend not to like species that murder and enslave humans as a matter of course. I also tend not to like people who kidnap me out of my damn apartment, in case you were wondering."
This sounds... negative. "I'm taking back what I said about you not being idiots."
Okay. He may be stuck here. BAD. But if he's stuck here, what needs to happen? Molly needs to find another master before the Council beheads her. The Sword needs to go to someone who can keep it and/or give it to some worthy knight. Bob... he's tempted to take Bob with him into this brave new world, but the magic knowledge skull should probably go to the people who are trying to keep Chicago from catching fire in his absence. Somebody needs to tell Murphy. God.
This is shaping up to be a much worse day than he thought.
Okay. He may be stuck here. BAD. But if he's stuck here, what needs to happen? Molly needs to find another master before the Council beheads her. The Sword needs to go to someone who can keep it and/or give it to some worthy knight. Bob... he's tempted to take Bob with him into this brave new world, but the magic knowledge skull should probably go to the people who are trying to keep Chicago from catching fire in his absence. Somebody needs to tell Murphy. God.
This is shaping up to be a much worse day than he thought.
Maybe I could apply for a dual citizenship, he thinks with a slightly manic mental giggle. God, this is a mess. If he could just send back some letters for Karrin and Michael and-
"Can you send messages back to where you got me from?" he demands. Because if they can, this becomes ever so slightly less terrible. Still the worst day he's had in a good while (the thing with the ghouls aside), but not quite "my lover turned into a vampire, I killed several dozen innocent humans, and I just caused the biggest supernatural war in recent memory" level.
"Can you send messages back to where you got me from?" he demands. Because if they can, this becomes ever so slightly less terrible. Still the worst day he's had in a good while (the thing with the ghouls aside), but not quite "my lover turned into a vampire, I killed several dozen innocent humans, and I just caused the biggest supernatural war in recent memory" level.
"Y-yeah, we can send letters, or, like, people who know what they're doing can send letters, I'm so stupid -" says Korulen.
"Don't tell," whimpers Saasnil.
"I have to."
"I can't get expelled I can't I can't -"
"You won't be. I have to tell my mom."
Korulen closes her eyes.
After a moment, the door opens, and a man who looks like he's probably Korulen's dad, complete with pointy ears, opens the door.
"Don't tell," whimpers Saasnil.
"I have to."
"I can't get expelled I can't I can't -"
"You won't be. I have to tell my mom."
Korulen closes her eyes.
After a moment, the door opens, and a man who looks like he's probably Korulen's dad, complete with pointy ears, opens the door.
It's very green in there.
This man is not himself. Or rather, he is not alone. He is wrapped up in, interpolated by, coextensive with, someone who is not him - or at least wasn't; it looks like they've been doing this for a very long time.
He's also a teacher, a wizard, an academic, but these are all relative afterthoughts compared to the She that is -
- shutting the soulgaze down hard, kicking Harry out of her husband's mind.
When Harry's paying attention to the world again, she's in the room, standing beside him, the same green of her presence showing up in her hair, hand over Kanaat's eyes, frowning at him.
"What was that?" she asks.
Harry cannot answer at the moment, because he has a psychic hangover that feels like Magog is hammering on the inside of his skull with an ice pick. Also, he's gibbering a bit. That... that wasn't quite as bad as gazing on the Faerie Queens on the field of battle, but she's really, REALLY big. That kind of thing stays with you.
After gasping and trying not to vomit for a while, he stutters out, "It was... it was, not on purpose. Soulgaze. I'm sorry, I, don't hurt, don't hurt me?"
After gasping and trying not to vomit for a while, he stutters out, "It was... it was, not on purpose. Soulgaze. I'm sorry, I, don't hurt, don't hurt me?"
Harry breathes. He recites a mnemonic in his head. The memory recedes into the background of his mind (it'll never go away, it'll never fade, but it's not everything anymore). Once he trusts himself to speak, he explains.
"It's... when a wizard, a wizard from my world, looks in someone's eyes for too long, we see into their soul, and they see ours. It's not usually that, uh, dramatic. You're a scary lady. In a complimentary sense. Why is your husband you?"
"It's... when a wizard, a wizard from my world, looks in someone's eyes for too long, we see into their soul, and they see ours. It's not usually that, uh, dramatic. You're a scary lady. In a complimentary sense. Why is your husband you?"