Was Mr Dresden paying a visit?

(I know, obvious answer!)

I heard Harry Dresden was making a living as a private detective I knew I could, I am David Boyd, Wizard and new to the Detective game. I am on my first assignment people from local shelters are missing. usually that isn't a problem the problem is that some of their body parts are showing up in alley's all over Baltimore. I have been on this case for a few days now and everything has been easy I have a lead and I am heading there now.

When David turns into the dark alley there was a small circle of street people crowded around a metal trash can, there is a fire coming out of it and the smell of a bitter sweet meat. They ignore him, David decides to step closer and introduce himself. As he get 5 feet from the circle he sees a human hand on a stick over the flame.

The oldest looking of the men looks up smiles a grin with long sharp buck teeth, he says to his group "Look boys we have some more meat for the fire" punctuating this by waving the stick that had the hand on it. Then says "Get Him". Not Thinking David Concentrates on the trash can and yells "Feugo" and the fire shoots up in the air distracting his would be attackers enough for him to escape.

David Ran for a block or so when he heard the Fire engines start to come close, he stopped looking over at where he had cast his spell and the smoke billowed from the apartments that where next to the alley. "$#!T" He turned and ran back towards the fire. He had to help. Then he thought Dresden never seems to have these problems.

I had been meditating on my roof at the time, when i felt the familiar tang of dark magic, it stung my nostrils. I quickly swept me eyes over the sleeping city. My eyes settled on the smoky flames spewing forth from a Baltimore rooftop. It was weak, and sloppy magic, but there was untapped power behind it Anger rose in me, this is is my turf my ego shouted, as words of death and flame began to grow behind my tongue and eyes. I suppressed them and decided to go speak with some otherworldly consultants about who was bumbling with the black, in my neighborhood.

Another building was on fire. And it isn't my fault.

I had thought that a simple walk would be good for me. Some fresh air does the body good. How was I to know that The Summer Court would be chasing some Red Court vampires out of the Nevernever as I was walking by.

I couldn't come up with this type of coincidence...why me?

As I left my apartment earlier tonight I thought that getting a little fresh air and exercise would be good for me, maybe even see some of the sights here and there. I was dead wrong. As I was turning a corner A loud blast deafened my ears and I felt heat as I was blown from my feet onto my butt to the ground. ow. It was hot really hot, like waking up and accidentally moving to close to the heater hot. as soon as my feet were able I got up to see what happened. It was a mess, someone must've set explosives in the building because it was in flames, a good chink of the wall was missing too. but something wasn't right here, the explosion seems t have exploded towards the inside o the building, but the scorch marks are from the outside. A normal person wouldn't have noticed that right away and would be more concerned with running away from fire, but I guess I'm the odd bird out. as I was walking toward the hole a...ummm..I'm not sure what you would call a 7 foot tall ugly looking man thing walking out of the rubble...but for the sake of my reputation lets call it a "really ugly ceiling challenged person". well it roared and rushed at me me being of sound mind and about to be unsound body turned to run before he got me. after a few seconds of me not getting eaten, (a curious thing really)I turned around to see that thing fighting another person, he was wearing a cloak kind of with crosses on them I didn't stop to look harder because I was more distracted with watching the man fight...and he was winning, go figure. well one might stay and enjoy the festivities and wake up tomorrow dead or one can run home and lock the door. The latter seemed like the best choice. I ran home and locked the door behind me hoping that thing would not come back for me, it's not like I'm important or anything, just your average Joe admiring him a new sword he bought off eBay the other day.

(part II) I sat on the floor in an ornately drawn pentacle, and turned my attention to the other pentacle a few feet from my own. There where candles placed at regular intervals around both. I closed my eyes and regulated my energy. I began to speak ancient and dangerously powerful words. Soon smoke began to pour from my mouth and nostrils, and the sharp feeling of dark magic filled the room. In the circle across from me, the air was being ripped apart. An entity materialized before me, shouting primal things. His form solidified (For i could sense he was male) and his shouting stopped. His anger fell on me quickly, and he asked "why have you called me here?" in an unearthly voice. I finished the binding and stood up, stepping out of the pentacle. "stop your whining" I chided "being summoned here isn't that painful". "like you would know" he said in a hurt voice. "down to business, i happen to know that you keep an eye on magic around here, you might not pick up mine because my spells are cleanly cast, but what happened last night, would've had your full attention. Who cast it?!". The demon whimpered, he knew he had to tell me, it was part of the binding, but he sure as hell didn't want to.

(part II) I sat on the floor in an ornately drawn pentacle, and turned my attention to the other pentacle a few feet from my own. There where candles placed at regular intervals around both. I closed my eyes and regulated my energy. I began to speak ancient and dangerously powerful words. Soon smoke began to pour from my mouth and nostrils, and the sharp feeling of dark magic filled the room. In the circle across from me, the air was being ripped apart. An entity materialized before me, shouting primal things. His form solidified (For i could sense he was male) and his shouting stopped. His anger fell on me quickly, and he asked "why have you called me here?" in an unearthly voice. I finished the binding and stood up, stepping out of the pentacle. "stop your whining" I chided "being summoned here isn't that painful". "like you would know" he said in a hurt voice. "down to business, i happen to know that you keep an eye on magic around here, you might not pick up mine because my spells are cleanly cast, but what happened last night, would've had your full attention. Who cast it?!". The demon whimpered, he knew he had to tell me, it was part of the binding, but he sure as hell didn't want to.

oops

First thoughts?

"They never seem to understand. New practioners, I mean. They seem to think it's all about grand gestures and evocations of power. But they never seem to consider two, three, four moves ahead. I mean, yes, you *can* summon fire to your staff to light the way before you, and sure, its impressive, especially on Halloween. But they're called GAS stations for a reason.

I don't care how badly the little wizling needed a smoke, ducking into the BP for a pack of cigs made it the least convenient store around. For me, at any rate."

(part 3)Having conferred with the demon, i now knew what i was dealing with... If only those god damed "Higher Entity's" would stop having children with mortals, I would be a lot better off. See "Higher Entity's" are effectively weak gods, sure there not omnipotent, but they are fairly powerful and have VERY strong magic, which means there half human offspring can carry quite a kick, but because the gods don't seem to care much about there children they don't even show them how to control there powers. which is bad.

Darn it! Someone gave Dresden Pepsi again.

Perhaps the White council is covering up the blunder of a young Wizard in residency. Maybe a untrained practitioner summoned up a demon and crossed the ssummoning line in error. Perhaps a drunken Fey got burned and decided to set fire to a gas station in an effort to set free the fire spirits that were sleeping there as a joke.
Perhaps someone cecame possessed by the spirit of Edgar Allen Poe and decided to burn down his last known residence in a fit of rage.

Maybe the cover up is that someone fell asleep while smoking in their apartment or a pair of lovers hard a quarrel and knocked over a lit candle. Perhaps a kid was playing with chemicals and accidently started a fire.

The story than can be told is as limitless as the imagine telling the story.

That is last time I take potion recipes off the internet. You'd think a guy could get a simple fogging potion as easily as a carton of milk from the store, but I get anxious and forget to make sure it works. Now I'm going to have to dodge cops, firefighters, and civilians just to make sure no one IDs me. The news crews will be here any minute to start casing the place and that i definitely don't need. When Old Sam gets wind of this I'm gonna have to explain how I managed to slip passed security cameras, infrared beams, and motions sensors but still got law enforcement all over the place. Oh and lets not forget any local practitioners, they'll be able to "feel" that cloud a mile away.

Okay. Focus James, think positive. That wall of magical fog is at least 75 feet high and covers almost two city blocks. If anyone does get close you should be able to slip by no problem. "Now where is that amulet?" I said talking to the keyboard at the main desk. The screen lit the whole room in a pale light. I know what you're thinking, I shouldn't be within twenty feet of this thing. If it wasn't for my necklace, ring, bracelet, belt and boots diverting everything spark of energy I had into the ground beneath me I'd be pulling glass and electronic circuits out of my face.

After checking the recent arrivals list and locating the storage room in the back, my spine was ready to disconnect from my hips and strangle me. I'm not that old but however used this place was either a hunchback or the size of a child. Luckily no one has showed up yet. I still got time. Or I thought I did. "James Edward Wood, you are not going to escape this time. I have you." A deep satisfied voice rang down the hall and stopped me cold. I turned to find a figure holding a staff in his right and glowing sword in his left, I had to force my self from panicking and running away like a little girl. He was tall even in his fighters stance and his gray cloak flowed almost to the floor. A Warden found me. A freaking Warden found me. This is just my night.

(Part2) The offices of Dr. David Lee Professor of Archeology were small but surprisingly roomy on the inside. The building had two entrances at either end and a very small shipping and receiving area on the east side. There are six examination rooms, two offices and a lobby dividing the structure into two mirrored sections. He must be paranoid because Doctor Lee had spared no expence in arming his place of business and study with security measures that rivaled a casino. It was no small task in discovering what exactly he had gotten installed, or so my employer tells me. I go on a job prepared and ready for anything. Thats what I tell myself before I leave anyway. Boy was I wrong this time.

"Hello Warden Marco. Shall we dance?" I said offering my hand trying not sound frightened.

"There will be no trial for you. I'll make this quick."

"I've bested you before and I'll do it again." I said in my most serious tone. "Its not like you could have gotten any practice killing all those children."

Anger. Pure blood-thirsty anger shown bright on his features and he struck with every ounce of will within him. Perfect. I shifted my footing and redirected his downward slash away with a blow to his forearm causing him to rush past me and nearly french kiss the concrete wall. Instead he planted a foot firmly against it and rebounded back with his sword pointing directly at my heart. Wow. He has been practicing. I barely sidestepped the lunge and slammed him in the face with my palm. He spun away sweeping blade around in an attempt to open my vitals. I had to get some distance between us and quick before I'm a foot shorter. His swing had been wild opening his back to me so I shoved him playground style forcing him to stumble off balance while I retreated a few paces. Marco whipped back around to face me sword at the ready. He was smiling at me.

"You were testing me." I said shifting uncomfortably.

"I saw you use the computer." He said pulling his staff into position in front of him. I looked around and noticed the fog potion with still working, all the doors and windows were still blocked by the wall gray haze and no lights came from outside. If I ran Marco would follow and I'd lose the mark which meant Old Sam would have me killed. If I stayed and fought in my current condition I'd most likely be decapitated. Well nothing left for to do except think of my last words.

I lowered my hands and bowed my head just enough to keep my eyes on Marco. I inhaled deeply and said in a hushed voice what I thought a universal truth and knew to be true in my heart. I guess Marco saw my lips move and curiosity got the better of him. "Try all you want, you'll never call up enough power to even shake my defenses let alone mount a decent shield of your own." Arrogance coated every word and it made me sick to think he could kill me. But it only confirmed what I said to myself.

"You're a %$#@ Marco." I snarled at him with all my hate and malice. I must admit though, a bit of pride creped into me at that moment. With a ball of white hot fire running a close second. I didn't even see him cast it. Marco has surprised me before but if I knew he was that fast with evocation I'd have shut up a long time ago. I could say that I made some death defying dive away from the shiny ball of agonizing death but I'd be lying. I let out a squeal usually reserved for B rated slasher films and dropped like a broken GI Joe and rolled under the desk in the lobby covering my head and trying not to yell for my mother. As I peered back down the hall Marco was stepping slowly and carefully toward the lobby apparently unaware I ducked under this piece of furniture. Even with the light from his sword the shadows were deep and concealed me enough to hide for the moment come up with a plan.

Marco was right, I have no chance to against him with magic right now. What little spells I could throw would be ineffective and what meager defenses I could manger would shatter like cheap glass. I would need to knock him out before I can the merchandise. But right now I'm magically grounded limiting even the simplest spells. Its like I'm standing in the river. The reasoning hit me like brick. Running water grounds and transfers magic to the earth. I have a plan.

Marco's sword shows me exactly where hes standing. Element of surprise is on my side this time. With my feet planted against the heavy desk I push propelling myself out sliding across the floor as I roll to snatch a trash can and hurl it at Marco. The little metal bucket flew straight and true at the light of Marco's sword sending it clattering to the floor revealing nothing but empty reception seats. Oh Crap. Everything goes upside down for a second and my eyes can't focus on anything as my head crashes on the other side of the desk. I fall limply to the tile floor across the lobby acutely aware of how bad the color scheme in this place is. It took a second for my brain to move back into its right position inside my skull. A sharp kick to my right side places me on my back staring up at Marco and wondering when he showed up. Oooh right i remember now.

Marco's voice dripped with pleasure and satisfaction. "No more running Jimmy. Its time for you to pay." He said as he reached for his symbol of authority. They say blood can't stain a Warden's cloak. Marco's would be black and oozing gore if that wasn't true. I'll be damned if I let this scumbag draw one drop from me. Theres power in blood and I know what he does with it. He lefts his sword, levels it at my neck and prepares his strike. "May you find peace." He says with that smirk of his. Sudden and violent anger floods my senses like a tidal wave and I reach deep grasping at what power I can keeping it from falling away and with a word i send it coursing out of my right hand.

"Moeru!" I all but screamed sending a spray of fire up around Marco. When it cleared I saw the glow of his shield protecting him from the blast his left hand covering his eyes from the light and laughing.

"I told you. It would do you no good." I could almost hear his laughter beneath his mocking voice. Just then the sprinkler system kicked on dousing the room in a flood of water and Marco's shield and sword faded to nothing. Blackness closed in around us and Marco screamed in fury and drove his blade straight down. The metal of the sword sparked like a gunshot as it hit the floor hard. Marco must have seen me moving past him in the instant and swung his weapon at me missing entirely and doubling over on the edge of the desk. I saw my moment and called up could to finish this fight before he could regain his strength.

"Senkou!" Light bright enough to set your eyes on fire erupted from my palm right into Marco's face. He immediately dropped his sword and began clutching his face in agony. Blinded and unarmed he was as harmless as kitten but I don't take chances. I picked up the computer's smoking monitor and proceeded to wail on the back of Marco's head until he decided against moving. "Only my friends call me Jimmy." I rasped tossing the monitor aside. With him out of the way I was able to retrieve the goods and get the hell out of that just before the boys in blue showed up. One hell of a night.

That. Was freakin' cool. An anti-hero, wizard, thief vs. a corrupt, murderer of a warden. Thanks for not trying to recycle the whole "I'm a detective just like Dresden" thing.

That. Was freakin' cool. An anti-hero, wizard, thief vs. a corrupt, murderer of a warden. Thanks for not trying to recycle the whole "I'm a detective just like Dresden" thing.

You never know when your life is going to change irrevocably. I knew things had gone south when I heard the footsteps behind us. Things had been going too well for my luck to hold. I had stayed after school so I could 'happen' to bump into Laura Plizinger after her band lesson. The girl could make jeans and an old t-shirt into high fashion, with brains and skill with on an oboe to boot. I fell in love, the moment she didn't point out how lame I was.

"Hi, Laura, Did you just finish practice?"

"yeah." she made the affirmative sound humorously suspicious. As she was walking out of the band room, it was well into the evening and she had her oboe case with her, the question seemed as staged as it was.

"Oh. Well. I just finished...studying...in the library." I pointed toward the library entrance as if after spending 3 years in King High School she might not know where it was.

"Oh" she nodded smirking, waiting patiently for me to follow up with something else less inane.

"So I thought since we don't live far from each other we might walk home...you know...like together." That's me; Mr. Smooth. I looked away towards the door we would be heading for if she said yes, and tried to use one of the mental calming exercises I had learned in my arcane studies with Wizard Peabody. It didn't work. Just as I would clear my mind images of Laura would form.

Laura pulling off her t-shirt. Laura and me naked. Laura laughing and walking away.

Okay, so I'm not the most robust 16 year old you've ever seen but I'm okay with that. Really.

My name is Jackson Haas and the answer is "yes" I DO know that makes me Jack Rabbit (Haas is German for rabbit if no one snickering told you). I am an apprentice; one of those crap brown robed losers sitting or crouching at someone's feet during the meetings of the White Council of Wizards. This position is a mix of all the bad things being a beginner implies. We are not paid, respected, or allowed any opinions - we are expected to do the drudge work, have perfect memories and be slavishly grateful for the tidbits of wisdom that fall to us, among the admonishments and insults. I was considered one of the more promising students; photographic memory, good self control, and yet I was one of the oldest talents to be kept out of the Wardens. Wizard Peabody said I needed to study more. He always looked away from me when he said it though, like he was hiding something.

"Okay." Laura smiled, making all other thoughts stop.

"Okay," I affirmed again stupidly. If I could just focus long enough to impress her with my intelligence and wit. Or at least long enough to wipe the stupid ear to ear grin off my face.

We started to walk. "So what were you studying?" she asked politely.

I nodded, "Latin. I was boning up on my conversational Latin." I made a conscious effort to stop nodding. Why had I said 'boning�' I swallowed hard as the naked image came back.

She looked suspicious again as if I was leading up to a joke, "Why would you study conversational Latin? Are you going to become a priest or something?"

"No" I blurted too quickly, almost following it with "A Wizard!" but caught myself in time.

See, I am intelligent.

"I..." am part of a secret club? No, to juvenile."I...ah..." what, What WHAT!� "promised a teacher I would learn it." Okay, that's good, I didn't lie.

She seemed genuinely interested, "Really? What teacher?"

"No one here at King. He's a..." 200 year old wizard who is trying to teach me to manipulate arcane powers, "...a...guy who is tutoring me on the side once in a while. My mom got him to help out." I was nodding like a bobble head again and forced myself to stop.

We were out of the school zone, winding our way through the streets packed with houses, one right next to the other. They were older communities where everyone knew each other and rumors of a teenage couple walking home spread almost as fast as telephones could be dialed. Unfortunately not everyone who was called was interested on getting the jump on tomorrow's gossip.

I heard the footsteps a few minutes before the sing-song mocking voice. Some part of me hoped it wasn't who I knew it was. The pit of my stomach turned cold with the impending disaster. Not as bad as after seeing that young warlock kid beheaded. I had nightmares for weeks after that.

"Oh, bunny� BUNNY� BUNNY RAAAABBIT." Kyle Hodiker's voice always sounded defensive, except when he was torturing other people. He was a big guy, not all muscle - but enough him was, and he was two years older but in the same grade. What he lacked in brains he made up for in viciousness. I had taken a few poundings from him before. Some of them might even have been deserved if he had figured out who had given him the hotfoot at the school assembly during our moment of silence, or who had flipped his full lunch tray onto his lap or why one of the cigarettes he had been smoking in the bathroom had set off the fire alarm or...you get the idea.

I took a breath and turned around to face my nemesis, "Hiya, Kyle. I'm kinda busy right now. Can I ignore you later?"

Part 2
Kyle's smile was more malicious than normal. His teeth seemed too white in the darkening twilight and his usual greasy haired white-trash thug outfit suddenly looked truly dangerous in the deepening shadows. I started to sweat at the same time the cold pit of my stomach lunged out to bite into my spine. I heard Laura say something to try and diffuse what was obviously going to be a problem.

"Why don't you knock it off Kyle! We weren't doing anything to you."

A small part of my brain registered she had said 'we' and rejoiced, but the rest of me watched Kyle approach, all my senses reaching out to find out what was different about him. He stopped smiling.

"Well look at little Laura," he snarled, "aren't you the stand up bit..."

"Hey!" my turn to snarl. Bad enough he was going to pound my face in front of the girl I had wasted hours after school for, but I was not going to let him insult her before hand. At least I could try for the pity vote with bruises tomorrow. I stepped closer to bring his attention back to me, "Listen asshat, if you want to air your ignorance where everyone can hear you..." I raised my voice in the hopes of drawing enough attention from the people inside the houses that someone would come out and stop what was about to happen. There had to be some way of doing this and keep my face intact. "...that is your dysfunction, but we don't need to hear you prove that there is no such thing as unutterable nonsense, you maladjusted, wank-faced, Jerk-In-The-Box."

I had moved too close and he grabbed the hand that I had used to gesture violently. I heard someone yell from the one of the houses and heard Laura yell back to them but I couldn't hear what either one had said. Something in Kyle's eyes had made everything else seem far away. He yanked me closer and I heard him growl "That's the last thing you are ever going to say." and then he did something vile.

I could handle being hit, or kicked, or made a fool of, but when you hear about someone spitting in someone else's face...well the words don't fit the disgust of the sensation. The spittle was warm and viscous and where ever it touched, my skin began to tingle and go numb. My left hand came up in a reflexive gesture to push Kyle away but instead of pushing I left it there and gathered my will. Something was very wrong about this. Now there was shouting and I could hear Laura sounding desperate through the cotton batting that had somehow encased my head. She was upset. My anger came through and with it the reflexive training on controlling and channeling it. I imagined it small and intense like a miniature sun that would form just beyond my left hand. Kyle didn't seem to be suffering the same cotton batting treatment that had somehow stricken me and instead smiled teeth that were too white and too long...

"Ignitus" The word sounded flat but the reaction was instant.

Kyle leaped back and yelped and for a moment I had a feeling of power - I had won this confrontation; I was victorious. But then, his eyes fluttering, he began to choke. His mouth was open as wide as he could get it and gouts of smoke began to puff out of his mouth with each exhale. He shut his eyes in what was obviously, excruciating pain and let out a stream of small choked off whimpering sounds. Then he coughed and a tongue of flame, red and yellow with greasy with soot, shot out of his open mouth for a second.

Then he screamed.

It wasn't the full throated scream you hear in the slasher movies, but a ragged pain filled cry of desperation, fear, and horror as he burned from the inside out. I heard people screaming then and the wail of a distant siren getting closer. I watched for a small eternity as he began to thrash back and forth. The flames burned there way out and the fire I had started now consumed Kyle, wicking the fats from his body to burn at crematorium temperatures. People were running now and the pyre that had been Kyle, billowing clouds of acrid greasy smoke, stumbled toward me. So I did the only thing I could think to do.

I ran away.

Stumbled actually, as my legs and feet didn't want to follow the instructions of my numbed head. I wanted to vomit and scream at the same time but all I could manage was a terrified whimper repeated for good measure, over and over.

This is not what I wanted to do. I hated Kyle but not enough to kill him. The unwanted memory came back of the sudden awesome feeling of the power of destruction. I would now be hunted by everyone I had thought of as a hero; the wardens, the White Council. I would be executed; decapitate by one of the swords I had wanted to use in service to the magic I had studied for years. I was a pariah like the screaming warlock whose execution had made me sick.

I had broken the first law of magic.

Ow. Ow ow bloody hell OW. I don't care how many times I've used fire, Hellfire or anything else sufficiently incendiary; when it gets used against ME, it always hurts. The left side of my beard was still smoldering and my entire left side, despite my jeans and bomber jacket, felt like I'd been in intimate contact with a giant wok for about ten seconds too long. And I'd just trimmed the freaking beard that morning. Insult to injury.

When I tried to get up, I suddenly found there was a lot more injury as foundation for the insult. Apparently, getting smacked across a street into the opposite wall by an exploding Dumpster gets you coming and going; bruises were threatening all over, and my right arm was somehow both numb and aching. Dammit. I finally slumped my way back upright and turned to check out the fire.

... er, Fire. Something vaguely human in shape (I only say that because it had stuff that sort of resembled two legs, two arms and a head) was stepping out of the blasted side of the Dumpster. Asphalt sizzled and popped as the thing walked (in my direction, more's the pity), looking like nothing more than boiling black water at each footstep. Memory finally caught up to me - a pyrofiend. Fire demon, if that makes it more comfortable for you. Raw essence of fire, with enough intelligence to direct itself and way more than enough fury (fire? fury? get it? Ha?) to direct it faster. Problem was, they never enter our world without someone (or something) directing them.

So I had a walking bonfire getting closer to me and some unknown Evil Overlord on the remote controls; he had to be close to be able to see both me and Sparky. One thing at a time, Logan. As much as I like fire myself, I had no intention of serving this guy a fresh meal of Flambé Flambé, so I fumbled my rune-inscribed brass knuckles (laugh all you want, wand boys and girls - I CAN'T drop the knucks) out of a jacket pocket, focused on the rings and shouted, "Forzare!"

I've been wrong before, but this was a humdinger of a boo-boo. Instead of knocking the pyrofiend down as it would have done to anything material, the force did nothing but turn it into a block-long sheet of fire, igniting the warehouses on both sides of the street.

Great, O'Neal. Way to think fast and avoid collateral damage. The block-long pyrofiend suddenly snapped back to its original size and shape, this time glowing white-hot with the new fires I had helped it create to reinforce it. I had to squeeze my eyes nearly shut just to see.

Fine. NOW I pull the wand. I guess the classics are classics for a frickin' REASON...