The Counsel of Wolves

Demiurge says "Okay, so Hitherby is leaving the restaurant. Or part of it, at least."

Hitherby drops down, for convenience, into the bug accompanying Liz, the two swarms outside Pat's house (or is that three?), the swarm with Daimon and everyone, and the swarm that was last seen heading towards Shannen's but hasn't managed to catch up with her yet. Then *thinks*. Hitherby sets down one of the Pat's house swarms in a deep bush and they close their eyes and begin to emit little buggy snores.

Demiurge says "As the bugs snore, you manage to ascend to the Marches. Your dream-image opens its eyes there, all many dozen of them, and spirals. You are in Blandine's Marches. There appears to be some sort of activity going on nearer her tower."

Hitherby thinks to herself, "Eep." But this is Blandine's side, and no matter *how* vicious the Game is, or how paranoid Hitherby is, surely they can't be here? And the Tower is the gateway to Heaven, so I buzz off that way.

You pass several groups of angels who appear to be on military standby - and several more who are just gossipping quietly and urgently - and are duly challenged by the Cherubim on guard at the gates of the Tower.

Hitherby hums atonally, "Hitherby, Kyriotate of Animals, en route to the Savannah."

The Cherubim nod, and stand back, furling their wings. The one to the right growls, "Pass, Hitherby, Kyriotate of Animals."

Inside the Tower, down the hall, you can see the gateway that is a Tether to Heaven proper. There are also several groups of angels hanging round, all likewise gossiping.

Hitherby then makes an embarrassed noise. "If there are records, you should probably remember 'Oboth' -- Hitherby is a nickname. I don't, er, go this route very often. Um." Then she proceeds into the tower. She stops by one of the groups of angels, though, waits for a momentary pause in the conversation, and murmurs politely, "Public or private concern?"

The Seraph closest to you in the group dips its ruby-scaled head politely. "Public, Domination. A recent matter. I do not know if you have heard of it?" The two others, both Malakim, also turn towards you.

Hitherby slowly adjusts herself to Kyriotate form, and adds, "I also do not know. It seems likely that I have not heard, however."

Hitherby adds, "Most Holy."

Hitherby thinks, "Note to self: dreamsurfing produces scatterbrainedness."

The Seraph shuffles its six wings in what is almost a gesture of nervousness. "It has recently been found that Christopher, the Angel of Children, one of the Servitors of Stone, has been killed. His body was found on the edge of the Far Marches."

One of the Malakim shrugs. "Shouldn't have been out there anyhow. Now everyone's worried."

Hitherby's pupils contract to points.

The other Malakite leans back against the wall. "Patrols are being upped a bit, but it shouldn't worry you if you're going to the Savannah, Domination. Still. It's a pity."

Hitherby says, sounding a bit shaken, "Thank you for informing me, Most Holy." She bobs in the 'air.' "Virtues."

Hitherby says, "God's grace to you," and floats towards Heaven.

The Seraph and Malakim flip their wings in a traditional gesture of farewell, then resume their conversation.

The Tether is easily passed, and you find yourself in Heaven. It is a rest to your soul, a pleasure to your eyes, and balm to your weary nerves: so bright, so clean, so kind.

Hitherby gives herself three long breaths to do nothing more than enjoy.

Nobody disturbs you: you can enjoy Heaven for as long as you wish.

Hitherby, then, as firm of will as a Kyriotate should be, brings her attention back to Earthly matters and flies towards the Savannah, to locate a Malakite of (ideally) enough rank to be informed and capable but without so much responsibility as to have no time for her. This may be difficult, but, fortunately, the creatures of the Savannah can probably point her on her way.

After some discussion, you are pointed in the direction of a Malakite who stalks a pine forest there, and is thought to be currently not particularly occupied. You are given directions to the mound of rocks a mile into it and to the east.

Hitherby, not the fastest Kyriotate in celestial form on Earth, is (of course) able to manage a fair clip in Heaven -- just short of the speed that would dizzy and confuse her.

Below, as you come in sight of the mound, you can see the Malakite sprawled on the warm stone, his wings outspread and glinting in the light: several wolves are piled in a comfortable heap below and around him, and he reaches out to rub one's head.

Hitherby flutters up with wingbeats just fast enough to sound natural in a forest environment -- not that a Malakite would be *fooled*, but it's polite. When she is close enough, she says, "God's grace to you, Virtue. Have you a moment?"

The Malakite looks up lazily, and inclines his head as he rises to a sitting position. The wolves stir, then go back to their sunning of themselves.

The Malakite says, "Certainly, Domination. What is it?"

Hitherby smiles and floats down to a nice conversational location. "I seem to have become engaged in active hostilities, Virtue, although there is a lull -- it seemed to me that the advice of a Virtue of the Great One would be useful."

The Malakite furls his wings. "I am listening. Go on."

Hitherby says, "Recently, I formed an alliance with a handful of angels and a very Redeemable demon -- the Almost-as-Great One of Judgment herself let that one live. This alliance was intended as a temporary thing, although some of the angels were already friends and I have formed bonds with others. We destroyed several Renegade Kobalites -- bloodthirsty monsters -- and frustrated the plans of the Game."

The Malakite is very still in the slanted sunlight. He says, after a moment, "These are personal things to you, and so I cannot judge how close they are to our Great One's wishes. Still, if he approves, then you must be doing right."

Hitherby says "The Great One did not express displeasure, and he rewarded me greatly -- my assumption is that I am within the bounds of what he expects of me." A few mouths smile. "His commandment, when I reported all of this to him, was to protect these allies and friends. I was not certain whether this was general advice or instructions, but events indicate the latter. The demon, the Elohite, and the Ofanite have all been targeted by the Game or by Nightmares. Further --" She hesitates. "You may not wish to make suggestions in this matter. The Prince of Dark Humor has been captured by the Game. I believe -- that it has been made clear to me that this should not happen. I don't know why, exactly. It doesn't seem even to be my affair -- but it is. This is preliminary; I can give you the tactical situation, if you are still interested in helping. I have -- examined myself for Balseraph taint or Lilim geases before going forward with these conclusions.""

The Malakite flexes his wings once, then again, thoughtfully. His eyes are a dark green, the same shade as the pine-needles.

The Malakite says, "Are you pack-bonded? Do you expect these friends to protect you in times of danger, and will you care for them when they are ill? Will you guard their young, and will they shelter you in age?"

Hitherby says, quietly, "I'm not sure the last two apply -- but yes."

The Malakite brings a knee up, and props his chin on it. "Then surely you will care for them in return. I see nothing strange in this."

Hitherby bobs. "The situation," she says, "is this."

The Malakite listens. One of the wolves opens its eyes, and watches you lazily.

Hitherby says, "We know of one Game operation, manned by a Lilim and a Djinn. There used to be more, but my friends winnowed them down a bit. Obtaining information from them is likely to be impossible; we have done so a couple of times, and they will be very wary. We know of a Tether to Nightmares, with substantial underground components, and we know that they are allied to the Game. We have a couple of other companies, obviously demonic or criminal, and the more -- human-understanding members of my group are investigating them as they can. We know that the Game is looking up information on the Redeemable demon and the Elohite, and knows where to find the Ofanite. Nightmares is an ally to the Game in this, as is, I think, the accursed Vapula. The Game has, apparently, proof that the Prince of Dark Humor has been helping Renegades -- and I have some reason to think that this means 'Renegades who might be Redeemed.' I don't know, though. The immediate problem is how to best strike against the Game -- how to destroy their office in an office building as best as is possible, how to find and damage their local Tether to get them off our backs, and what to do about the local Nightmares Tether. The long-term problem is how to rescue the Prince of Dark Humor, unless it turns out that I am wrong and he is a greater evil than the Game. Wisely or unwisely, I have promised this --" She hesitates. "A secondary concern is whether you feel I should request the assistance of the Great One's warriors in destroying the Tethers. They are a threat to angels -- but, well, there will always be Tethers, and they will always be a threat to angels."

The Malakite spends another few minutes thinking about the statement.

Hitherby waits.

The Malakite says, "Firstly, it seems that you are stalking your prey wisely. This is good. Learn its grounds and spoor, and surely you will find your tasks easier." He thinks, as one of the wolves rubs against his leg. "Dark Humor is as much of an evil as the Game, or so I have been told. I would advise you to be careful, Domination."

The Malakite says, "Perhaps one of your more human-minded colleagues could explain why Dark Humor is such a grief to humans. It is not generally a concern to animals, though I have heard that sometimes the crows are tempted."

Hitherby smiles.

He leans forward. "Finally, if you must call for help, be sure that you have found out all that you can beforehand. The Great One does not generally send down his warriors to poke into a hole which is unknown and may hide serpents."

Hitherby reflects. "This is fair."

The Malakite stretches, rising. "I am glad that you find it so. Now tell me, Domination, why is it that one Demon Prince makes public war upon another?"

Hitherby says, "Two reasons, to my understanding."

Hitherby says "One, their Words are opposed, and Princes do not generally have the ability to compromise and empathize that one expects of angels of opposed Words. Two, the Prince of Dark Humor has apparently been helping Renegades of most Princes evade the Game. It would make things much more simple, ethically, if it were to turn out that these Renegades are Redemption candidates -- oh. I should add, three, when one Prince triumphs over another, that makes the other Princes afraid. Wouldn't it?"

The Malakite frowns. "Then why do the other Princes not move against the Prince of the Game? Or can it be that Hell is as little united as we are told... but then again, it is hard to understand why they can resist us, in that case."

Hitherby thinks about this.

The Malakite waits, patiently.

Hitherby says "The dark realm is the place farthest from God. Perhaps the demons, creatures of that place, accomplish very little towards their individual goals -- but all their actions further that afarness from God. That and, er, demons probably are more likely to cooperate when Virtues are around, sir. Most celestials find Trauma unpleasant."

Hitherby half-smiles with several mouths. "At that, I expect the local demons will tend to cooperate more when any of my swarm are around -- now. But not to as great a degree."

The Malakite shrugs. "You are on the scene, of course, and so you are the one who must decide." His voice has grown colder. "You must do as you see fit."

Hitherby says, quietly, "Have I offended you, sir?"

The Malakite shrugs. "You make no sense. I will endeavour to ignore this."

Hitherby frowns faintly, in thought.

Hitherby says, "My apologies, then. And I am grateful for your assistance."

The Malakite smiles, faintly, showing a curve of ivory-white teeth. "You were sensible enough to begin with. I have often had this problem with the Dominations of the Great One."

The Malakite said, "Good fortune with your pack."

Hitherby smiles, too. "In diversity, there is strength; a few misunderstandings are a fair price to pay. Thank you again, and fare thee well."

Hitherby bobs, covers her eyes with her wings for half a moment, and then begins to float off.

The Malakite raises his arm in salute as you depart.

Hitherby calls, "Bye-ee!" and streams off towards -- hm. What happens if I descend to a Tether?

Demiurge says "Hm. You would descend to Earth, and then be left with an unhosted bundle of Forces at the Tether-exit point, as well as those of your other Forces currently occupied elsewhere there."

Hitherby heads towards the D.C. Tether, then. She has a question for the Seneschal before she wakes up.

Demiurge nods to Hitherby. You descend to that Tether safely. The Seneschal there greets you.

Hitherby smiles to him. "Hi again!"

Hitherby says, "I have a quick question that I was hoping you could answer. Do you happen to know the location of the local Tether to the Game?"

Hitherby gave him a semi-coherent report the night Lilith dropped by, so he might have some idea of why. Or he might be puzzled ;)

The Seneschal buzzes a long no. "I fearr not, sibling/brother/child mine. It isss a matter of consideration, surrely."

Hitherby says, "Consideration?"

The Seneschal assumes the pattern of sincere concern and unfortunate puzzlement used by bees. "Surrely we are all considerring wherre such a thing may be? Forr surrely the Game are an evil that thrreaten?"

Hitherby rotates in thought. "Okay."

Hitherby borrows a few insects from the surrounding area so she can talk in kind.

Hitherby says, "There was no particular response to my report, I take it? Not that I was expecting one."

The Seneschal assumes the pattern of polite negation. "It is a grrief that therre was not, but surrely one so enthusiastic and gifted as yourrself will have plans alrready in mind? Many is the tale I have hearrd about the quick-thinking Oboth."

Hitherby twirls. Her words may be brusque, but her pattern is cheerful and appreciative; she has just been in Heaven.

<> Demiurge thinks, you know, that Hitherby has a _reputation_. ;)

<> Sephar says "She does!"

<> Arcangel says "Definitely!"

<> Hitherby laughs. But what *kind*? :) Oh well. She'll assume it's good; Hitherby has zero pride but substantial vanity. (If that makes sense.)

<> Sephar nods. Lots of sense and it is her.

Hitherby bobs. "I will endeavor to come up with some," she chrisks.

Hitherby reflects. "I thank you for your time," she says. "I will no doubt return with more questions soon." Amusement.

Hitherby says "Fare thee well!"

The Seneschal assumes the pattern of polite acceptance. "It is the duty of the serrvitors of our Grreat One to aid each otherr. Surrely I will be herre."

Hitherby bobs. "I would be enormously saddened if you were not."

The Seneschal buzzes in amusement. "Farre well."

Hitherby hums thoughtfully. "A final thing. May I keep this host, near, in case of emergencies?"

Hitherby knows that the local bugs are sort of property of the Seneschal, so.

Hitherby (well, not property. But allies/subjects/associates/hosts/&c.)

<> Sephar says "Servants?"

<> Arcangel was wondering about that word.

<> Hitherby nods. She knows.

<> Hitherby thinks. It's sort of like -- hunting territory. If I were in a wolf host, it'd be licit to eat a rabbit, but not a rabbit *here*.

<> Hitherby says "It's also rude to possess another Kyriotate's usual host, even with permission of the host -- not unforgivably rude, just sort of classless. :)"

<> Arcangel says "Tacky."

<> Hitherby nods.

The Seneschal buzzes, "Verry well. I will not interrferre with it."

Hitherby hums, "If it bothers you at all ...?"

The Seneschal assumes the pattern of acquiescence. "Not at all."

Hitherby patterns into 'joy.' And drifts just outside the Tether, so that -- well -- any weird effects of having a host in a Tether don't happen. And then abandons her celestial form so that the bugs at Pat's house can wake up.

Hitherby keeps the small Tether-swarm.

---

Fiat Justitia