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Lost Haven
Present Day
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The Red Devil was abuzz with information about
Pax Metahumana. There were no televisions in the demon tavern, its only source of overworld news coming from concerned customers, insightful witches, and mercurial spirits. Normally the tavern’s denizens would ignore such city-wide panic, a great number of them immortal or semi-immortal beings unaffected by most mundane affairs, but the sheer number of humans seeking a magical remedy for this most recent catastrophe made the avaricious Robin Goodfellow open his arms to the citizens of Lost Haven, his greed appearing to them as sympathy. In the hours following the mysterious broadcast, Goodfellow took Marie and Joseph into his office, instructing the other four witches in the tavern, with whom Marie was unfamiliar, to focus on their current contracts.
“Alright you two,” Goodfellow addressed them with a wicked grin, “I want you to forget about your other contracts until this bomb business is sorted, got it?” Marie and Joseph nodded. “Wonderful! Now, here’s how we’ll handle this. I want both of you scrying for the bomb’s location. Once one of you finds something, I want Marie to assume the mantle of White Witch and take to the city.” Marie gave him a confused look.
“Why do we need White Witch? Surely there’s something we can do about the bomb without getting physically involved, right?”
“Perhaps,” Goodfellow replied, “but I want to spread the word about White Witch. So far you’ve confined yourself to Chinatown and insist on donning her mask when working here. If the whole of Lost Haven becomes familiar with the White Witch’s many powers and charms, they’ll eventually be drawn to her services, which will lead them to me.” Goodfellow chuckled, thinking of all the people that might find themselves in his clutches.
Marie nodded hesitantly, exiting the demon’s office with Joseph. It was true that she hadn’t wandered past Chinatown to conduct her business, and that, when working at The Red Devil, wore her costume so as not to be recognized. Her reputation as White Witch had grown considerably since her contract began with Goodfellow six months ago, but her sphere of influence hadn’t. Perhaps this was the best way for her to be recognized, to gain more customers.
She and Joseph went into a room on the second floor that housed the tools of their trade: circles of candles, shelves lined with reagents and ritual items, mystical trinkets scattered here and there, assorted grimoires and ancient texts, and a large, brass cauldron at the far end of the room. Joseph grabbed a silver bowl, filled with water, piped in drops of a dark, herbal mixture, and began interpreting the resulting shapes. Marie, on the other hand, took up a scrying mirror, one whose glass was painted black and inscribed with sigils and runes, and peered into its surface after inducing a trance. The two used their respective divinatory tools until finally, each was granted a vision of their current objective. Within the dark haze of the scrying pool, Joseph saw a tall building towering over the city, whose peak was surrounded by a thick mist. Marie was greeted by a shadowy figure in her mirror, whose features were unclear, but whose outline was made larger by the bulk of what appeared to be armor. They both took a moment to themselves, momentarily exhausted by their prophesizing.
Marie turned to Joseph. “What did you see?”
“I think I saw the bomb’s location,” he responded, not entirely sure of his vision, “well, the general area anyway. It was a tall building that stood over the entire city.”
“The Chambers Building near Sherman Square?” Marie theorized.
“Makes sense. If I were gonna unleash something that would enclose the entire city, I want the highest vantage point. What about you, what did you see?”
Marie shook her head, “Not sure, but I think it was someone else going after bomb. I couldn’t make out many features, but they looked dangerous.” Joseph nodded, then, after looking around the room for a few moments, handed her a small amulet with unfamiliar inscriptions.
“Take this. It’ll keep you out of harm’s way.” Marie took the amulet and smiled at him.
“Thanks,” she replied quietly, putting it around her neck. “Guess I’ll go suit up and take a look.”
“Be careful,” Joseph called at her as she left the room. Marie put on her White Witch garb, which she had been leaving at The Red Devil for added secrecy and ease of access, opened the door to the city on the first floor, and sped off on her broom, the Chambers Building her destination.
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The atmosphere of Sherman Square was different from Chinatown. The threat of Pax Metahumana was more present here than in the corners of Lost Haven and the citizens who walked the streets did so at a quickened pace. Marie flew above the city, catching strange and fearful glances from the streets below. The Chambers Building came into view, as well as the figure from her vision. Marie hung back and watched, trying to assess the level of danger and judge the other arrival as a friend or foe.
Suddenly, the figure removed an automatic weapon from his jacket, pushing past the people in the street and making his way into the building. A few moments later, the sound of shots could be heard as people fled the building. Marie jumped, then flew closer. She stopped as she neared the door, figuring that she stood a better chance if a fight were to break out in the open. She could hear the sound of racing footsteps inside behind the blaring alarms and stuttering sprinklers that had gone off. In the distance, sirens and lights from police units and fire trucks raced through traffic towards the building. Marie flew up to the top of the building, scanning the tower’s peak for the bomb and, unable to locate it after the first few passes, decided to wait for the armed assailant, hoping that he might lead her to the bomb’s location.
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