The Battle of Death Mountain: Staging

[Tearen Wover]

Nealaphh was not used to being hailed as a hero.

Yet, as the Goron Caravan made its way back up the pitched slopes of Death Mountain, nearly a hundred Gorons line the causeway into the village proper. The thronging rock-men threw up puffs of glowing silicate powder, hooting and cheering as the lead Goron in the caravan held up the Gigaton Hammer triumphantly. In this way, the Caravan became more of a processional parade. The God-Mind had to wonder how, exactly, the Gorons had known that they were coming, but it ultimately decided that it was unfair to think that all of the golemesque villagers were luddites. Connor Hound, who had joined with their caravan a few hours prior, did his best to keep his motorcycle driving straight over the hilly, rubble-strewn terrain. Nealaphh had been glad to see the mercenary expressing such enthusiasm for assisting in the banishment of Volvagia, especially since so few others had volunteered, at least outwardly.

The red light of the ash choked sky bounced vibrantly off of the hewn doorways and walls that had been carved into the igneous landscape. All of these obsidian structures led towards the yawning mouth of the main cave, where Chief Darunia stood with his meaty arms crossed and wide grin beaming. Nealaphh abruptly returned to its humanoid form and floated fown gently from atop the Dodongo, only to have the Goron Chief rush up and give the God-Mind a sharp, crushing embrace. 

"Good to see you brother! And you brought a guest! The first of many I hope!" Darunia bellowed, glancing towards Tom's placid form. The collected tribe all looked on with baited breath as Darunia collected the Gigaton Hammer from the caravan leader, hefting the weapon a few times. After giving it some experimental swings, the massive Goron leader traced a rough finger along the etched, glowing runes that ran along the haft.

"It's certainly a different beast than the Megaton Hammer...but I like it! What's say we give it a whirl?!" Darunia shouted, eliciting a round of cheering from the Goron brotherhood.

I would expect nothing less. Nealaphh cooed, its eyes narrowing in anticipation. In just a few minutes, a group of a dozen Gorons had rolled an oversized boulder down from a nearby house, balancing it precipitously on the downward slope of the main road. Daruna stood at the bottom, glaring at the black, spherical rock. Nealaphh and Tom watched in earnest as the several-ton boulder was pushed hard towards the Chief. Darunia remained still as the boulder gained velocity, and right at the last moment, he swung the hammer in a sharp, two handed arc. 

There came a deafening crack as the runaway rock was more than simply shattered; it was disintigrated. A hail of pebbles and sand were blasted away in a cone from the point of impact, much to the glee of the Gorons. Connor whistled lowly, and Darunia whooped loudly and stomped his feet, gazing wide-eyed at the Hammer as if it were his favored child. The Chief brandished the head of the Hammer towards the summit and shouted an oath.

"Hear that, Volvagia?! The next thing to break is your FACE!"

Another round of cheering, and when the cacophany finally settled down, Darunia practically skipped towards the small hut where Tom and Nealaphh were watching. It was clear that Tom found the entire display to be somewhat droll, but the God-Mind's expression remained inscrutable as always.

"Quite a piece of work you put together, Brother Nealaphh!" Darunia said, slinging the hammer over his shoulder. Every time the Hammer was so much as jostled, the Enigma could hear the entombed consciousness within the weapon snarling in want of destruction. 

Please, Tom here was more than instrumental in perfecting the design. It was a team effort. The first of many. Nealaphh said, bowing its head slightly. Tom noted the deliberately sacharine intonation that Nealaphh was projecting its words with. The wizard understood why, but that didn't make it any less grating.

"So what happens now?" Darunia asked, settling into a cross-legged position on the ground. 

I am glad you asked, Brother. Now, we wait and prepare for the battle. Many Primes are going to be gathering here in just a few days. I will need to see to it that proper accomodations are prepared. Nealaphh said, projecting mental images of heavy duty tents strung up around the village. Darunia nodded thoughtfully.

"'And what about the Koopas?" he grumbled, his eyes flickering with a flinty resentment. 

I am not sure if they have been sufficiently appeased, but we will find out soon enough.

Darunia snorted.

"Yeah, well, they'd better show up if they know what's good for 'em. Anything else, Brother?"

Not at the moment. I will let you know if I need your assistance.

"Hrmph. Good enough. See you around, Brother." Darunia boomed, offering both Primes a hearty slap on the back as he trundled out into the carmine daylight. Nealaphh turned slowly to Tom, who was very clearly uncomfortable for many reasons.

"Seems as if you'll be quite occupied for some time." Tom said with an airy tone. Nealaphh was not sure what the wizard was playing at, but it did not have the time to concern itself with such subtleties at the moment.

Nothing you need to concern yourself with, Tom. I'm sure you'll find a way to help if you so choose.

The God-Mind then turned to look at Connor, who was idly leaning against the cool pummice wall of the volcanic hovel.

As for you, Mr. Hound, I invite you to relax and do as you see fit. Accommodations will be provided shortly, unless you wish to make your own.

With that, Nealaphh swept out of the dark, stone hovel, eager to get a head start on all the necessary chores. There was so much riding on trusting in the competence of others. It made Nealaphh feel a tad uncomfortable, but, it had little alternative...

[Tearen Wover]

In the span of a few hours, Nealaphh had efficiently used only a pittance of Omnilium to construct several improvised shelters to accommodate the imminent influx of powerful Primes. The small structures were partly made from volcanic glass that the God-Mind had cauterized into frames using the pervasive soot, and partly made from a strong fabric that the Gorons made from Bomb Flower flax. In the short periods of rest that the enigma had taken, it had elected to observe these volatile crops in detail. The plants themselves were fascinating in that they seemed to use a blend of carbon-rich organic compounds and a pressurized inner husk to create concussive blasts upon separation from their root. The fact that the Gorons were able to tend to entire fields of these explosive flora was testament to their exacting and deliberate nature.

Nealaphh rose from a seated position on the glimmering, black ground and turned around to peer off to the South. Two black specks were weaving among the ash clouds like tiny gnats, the incarnadine light of the Steppes causing their reflective surfaces to twinkle and glimmer. It was the God-Mind's primary Aspects, returning from an emissary trip to the Koopa Kingdom. In a matter of minutes, the two hovering prisms came to a stop just a short distance from the God-Mind. The shadow reached out with its enveloping consciousness, and delved into the crystalline memory of the two geometric beings, allowing their thoughts to meld together.

In this way, Nealaphh learned that Bowser had refused to help the Institute in their pursuit, despite Drake Oneir's noble sacrifice. How inane. The oafish laughter of the Koopa King still rang loudly in their memories, and it grated against Nealaphh's practiced tranquility. No matter; if they refused to help themselves by ridding the Steppes of Volvagia, it would be easier to justify imperious judgement on the Koopa Kingdom once Nealaphh had the Institute better established. With a whoosh of its robes, Nealaphh walked up through the field of a dozen or so glass-fabric tents, towards the Goron Village proper. The God-Mind needed to deliver the news to Darunia.

A short time later, Nealaphh was standing in the familiar chiaroscuro darkness of Darunia's chambers, the roaring volcanic flame causing the shadows to dance across the myriad reliefs chiseled into the walls. Darunia scratched his stony beard slowly as Nealaphh delivered the news of Bowser's cowardice.

"Hrmph. Well, I half suspected this. We'll make do without!" Darunia said, clapping Nealaphh on the shoulder. The Enigma resisted the urge to flinch and looked up at the towering, muscular man.

I am sure that once you set an example of leading the assault, King Bowser will feel very foolish indeed.

Darunia seemed to pause, and Nealaphh could taste a hint of apprehension on the Chief's mind. It smacked of hypocrisy.

Is something wrong, Darunia?

"Well...it's just that..." Darunia paused, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. Nealaphh had never seen the Goron Chief behave this way, and it was slightly disconcerting. The Goron released a deep sigh and held the Gigaton Hammer out towards Nealaphh. Scrunching one eye in confusion, the God-Mind plucked the implement from Darunia's grasp with a slow telekinetic tug.

"It's just that...I'm afraid I can't join you on this." Darunia said, offering Nealaphh an apologetic look. The Enigma's inscrutable facial features remained ambiguous, but inside, Nealaphh was suppressing an alarmingly human amount of anger. It was all the God-Mind could do to relay its telepathic thoughts without a trace of disturbance.

Why is that?

"No offense to you, Brother, or the other Primes coming to help, really. But you see, I'm the Chief. I'm here to make sure the rest of our Brothers stay safe, and if that means putting Volvagia to sleep every now and then, that's fine, but something like this..."

Nealaphh cut the Chief off.

You can't risk them being attacked, should we fail to put the dragon down.

"Smart as ever, Brother. Someone needs to stay here to protect the village. But tell you what. Any Goron willing to fight will be free to climb to the summit with you." Darunia nodded, crossing his over-sized forearms. Nealaphh passed the hammer to the telekinetic influence of Klee and Shen, who had been lingering at the threshold of the grand chamber for the entire conversation.

I understand, Darunia. We will find someone else who can properly wield the weapon.

"I don't enjoy the idea of sitting this one out, believe me on that Brother."

Say no more, Darunia. I have nothing to hold against you. Let me know when you have a solid number of volunteers accounted for; I must continue making my own preparations.

With that, Nealaphh quickly swept out of Darunia's chamber, quietly steaming to itself. The Koopa Kingdom was staying out of it, Darunia lacked the confidence in the God-Mind to join the fight, and where was Ambrosia? Surely Drake must have arrived in the jungle by now, yet Nealaphh had heard nothing from either the smuggler or Princess Guu. As the shadow exited the main cave, it looked up at the smoking summit of Death Mountain with pinched eyes. It could not afford to back off on the assault. Not now, when it had so much momentum behind the raid. After a moment of reflection, Nealaphh began taking long strides off towards the temporary living area. It had to construct sanitation facilities, a kitchen and pantry, as well as a myriad of other living amenities. It was a good thing it had chosen to construct the Gigaton Hammer from native Omniverse material; otherwise it would not have been able to afford the Omnilium to make all of these objects...

[Harry Dresden]

Harry woke from his sleep within the Ashen Steppes, stretching within his tent and rolling his shoulders back. His campaign against Darkseid had come to an abrupt end, and he hadn't managed to find any other Primes since that incident with the dragon. The Steppes were huge, and much of them was untracked land, home only to various lizards and occasional villages from the Koopa Kingdom. Harry had skirted the strange anthropomorphic turtles and mushrooms that composed these settlements, rather uncomfortable with them as a whole after the Apokalips Troopas.

Just recently, one of the main features of the 'verse, the large mountain in the center, had become a lot more active. At first, Harry had been wary of it, but as the disturbance continued, he became much more concerned. Something about the way things were stirring had made him curious, and that curiosity had led him to journey into the astral, several nights prior.

The first thing that he'd found was that this universe's Astral Plane was a poor comparison to the Nevernever. It didn't have many intersections with the Material, and opening a Way into it seemed to take five minutes, regardless of the circumstances. By far, the most glaring difference was the intersection it had with dreams. Harry had learned a little of the drake Volvagia's stirring from the dreams of several rock-people, Gorons, as well as Koopas whose dreams he had touched. The drake's advent made Harry sweat, but it also had a good bit of irony to it. He'd fought one dragon before, in the Omniverse. Two, in fact.

Shaking himself from his reminiscences, Harry strode from his tent and spent some time breaking his campsite down into Omnilium before summoning a copy of the strange yellow bird that Blues had created in pursuit of the Rathalos. His couldn't fly, but the bird's long legs were a handy attribute on the rough paths of the Ashen Steppes. With a flick of the reins and a yell of "On, Salsa!", Harry started the last leg of his journey towards Death Mountain.

The ride across the ash-covered ground was uneventful, and, within an hour and a half, a wizard in a duster with a grey cloak thrown over it, clutching a staff carved with runes in one hand and the reins to a bright yellow Chocobo in the other, rode up the slopes of Death Mountain itself. Many facilities were being constructed by a familiar shadow that Harry spotted on his approach to the Goron village, the telepathic entity from the assault on the Apokalips Troopas that made Harry shiver in distaste, and, putting off that reunion for the moment, Harry instead dismounted and walked into the Goron village.

With a simple inquiry, Harry quickly learned the purpose of all the activity in the rock-people's village. Soon, the shadow, which they called "Brother Nealaphh", would lead an assault on the dragon Volvagia, hoping to remove its looming threat from the Omniverse, and, though they were not privy to the particulars of the plan, they were aware that it involved a large number of Primes, many of which had yet to arrive. In fact, the only one they were aware of besides Nealaphh, currently, was the man who had ridden into town with Nealaphh. Not much was known about the man, but those who had spotted him were eager to give a physical description, and literally anyone was preferable to having that voice echo in his head any more than it needed to. Perhaps the rules were different here, but Harry was still highly uncomfortable with telepathy in any application. Messing with the minds of others could quickly grow addictive.

Stabling Salsa the Second, Harry shouldered his rune-carved staff and set out for the encampment, hoping to find out more about the plan of attack on the dragon Volvagia. He could shoulder his distaste for Nealaphh for the moment, seeing as the dragon's threat took precedence. Today presented a rare opportunity to give the Mantle of Winter the kind of violence it sought while still being able to defend others. Sooner or later he would have to master his more violent impulses, but for now, he would settle for sating the cold hunger of Winter in a way that didn't make his conscience pain him.

[The Rogue]

After the display of the Goron Cheiftan, and following Nealapph. Connor claims one of the obsidian tents that Nealaphh made. It was at the end of the row of tents created by the Eldritch being. Connor sist in the middle and closes his eyes, thinking about his severe lack of ammunition. He breathes deeply and slowly, putting in his mind the three separate types of magazines for his three guns.

A 5 by 6 array of FN 20 round magazines for his SCAR PDW flash into existence in front of Connor, they are all fully loaded, and a dusty brown color. Then a 6 by 7 array of matte black 9 round pistol magazines custom made for Lycöan, and a 3 by 3 square of 33 round magazines designed for his Glock 18, Lupa. Connor stands and checks each and every magazine, making sure they all are filled to capacity. He puts two of the 33 round mags on the left side of his belt, and two of the 9 round clips on the right. Then he sticks two FN mags in the two slots on his belt.

Connor looks at the ammo on the floor,

“Huh...I should have probably done a better system of this, God I need more storage space”, he picks up two more of the FN mags and goes over to his bike which has his trenchcoat draped over it. He lifts his coat and puts it on completely, he takes the two magazines and puts them in the two inner pockets. He notices something off, he pats his pockets from the outside and he can feel, nothing actually. There is no weight or form in his pockets, yet when he sticks his hands inside, he can feel each magazine separately. He makes a quick theory and decides to test it, taking both an FN and a Glock magazine, he puts the longer mag in his left pocket, and the bulkier mag in his right, again, he doesn't feel their weight, and both slip right in. He shrugs,

“Cool”, he gives his signature half smile and evens out the pockets really quick, then systematically put more mags of the three types until all of them are in, and both pockets have equal amounts.

He sits back down, unholstering Lycöan, Lupa, and taking off his SCAR. He drops all of their mags and dechambers their current bullet. He puts these bullets in their respective magazines. He takes the guns apart and cleans them, starting with the SCAR. He makes sure the barrels are clean and smooth, that each and every part can move freely and doesn't stick. Once satisfied, Connor loads the guns with their respective magazine. On each gun he chambers the first round and places them on safety. He stands up and puts the guns in their proper spots.

He pokes his head out and sees Nealapph walking over. Connor goes over to him,

“Hey Nealapph, several questions, can you manipulate the fabric of space? Also did you happen to have done that to my jacket? I mean it's okay if you did, but even though that was a nice surprise, I would have liked to have been notified. Finally, do you need any of my help?”

[Tearen Wover]

The God-Mind turned from its work as it felt Connor Hound approaching. The human Prime had a very distinctive thought pattern, devoid of the sort of pomp and conceit. It was far different from he sort of thoughts many other Primes, even the supposed 'heroes', held within them. Many of Omni's chosen had a sort of entitled attitude, an opinion that they were of great importance. It was only exacerbated by their newfound status, and it was an ideal that even the God-Mind had to keep in check.

Connor's question was intriguing.

Yes, Mr. Hound. I am capable of such rites. I have not subjected your attire to any such activity, however. In regards to your assistance, there is nothing presently that I need you for, but if you know anyone who might want to help us, I'd be grateful if you reached out to them.

Connor nodded and went on his way, leaving the God-Mind to wonder why the man had been asking about spatial manipulation, specifically regarding his coat. Perhaps he had unwittingly manifested some similar effect relating to it. There was something more immediately concerning to Nealaphh, however. In its response to Connor, the Enigma had used a contraction of words in its speech. Such grammatical contrivances were the tool of a lazy, impatient mind, and the fact that it had used one served to once again remind the shadow of awakening humanity within itself. With the attack on Volvagia looming, however, there was precious little time to address the problem. The God-Mind could only hope that the mental contamination would not metastasize.

Nealaphh was pulled from its ruminations once more as a cloaked figure rounded the corner of a nearby, charred outcropping of igneous stone. It was Harry Dresden, the wizard Nealaphh had fought alongside several weeks prior. The man's mind remained stalwartly shut to the Enigma, but this did not particularly concern it.

Harry Dresden, a pleasure that we once again cross paths. Have you come to assist in our endeavor?

[Harry Dresden]

There it was. That strange resonance that sounded so much like speech except it didn't need anything to do with normal things like ears or sound waves. Nealaphh seemed to have Harry-dar with how quickly it picked up on the wizard's presence. Or, the more logical part of Harry's brain supplied, maybe he's just on the lookout for other Primes to help with this. Containing his irritation at his self-conflict and how he couldn't even muster up blind distrust of what was almost certainly an Outsider anymore, he nodded in response to the entity's question. "For some reason, I seem to get into these dragon hunts with startling regularity. First the Rathalos and Rathian, now Volvagia. Though, this one is probably a good few steps above those two..." He trailed off, thinking about that fight and how Cindy had shown up, only to incapacitate an ally and disappear into the sunset with one of the artifacts. "Hopefully this time goes a little more smoothly."

Again, the wizard's though processes reached another conclusion just seconds after his mouth, when he realized that, with that green kid going after one of their strongest fighters instead of the dragons, that Inlumia fellow playing with freaking Hellfire like it was a toy, and Cindy's double-cross, it really could hardly go much worse, even if Volvagia was leagues upon leagues above the two Raths. "Though, I'm not just offering blindly. I'd like to know that we have a plan. That's where things all went to hell with the Rathalos. We weren't organized, we didn't know how to work together, and we let the thing run away and get help from its mate. So, Nealaphh, was it? From the looks of things, it's your show. What's the play?"

[Tom Marvolo Riddle]

Each step I took brought my wand slashing this way or that to disburse the larger obstacles from my path. Just one more that drove home the nature of this place. Annoyance flickered across my face despite my resolve to hide it. I had found nothing of worth that I could bring back to Hogwarts for breeding. Planting… maybe but not much else. What an insufferable land!

Wiping the ash from my face and hair I move back to the camp that I had broken off from, wand clutched tightly in my fist. Not even a decent ever burning salamander had blocked my way. Just lifeless ash and stone. How the Gorons found themselves at home here I could only imagine but for human life or near human life like myself- it was an unfortunate mix, like adding quills too early to a boil removing potion.

Anyone with a lick of sense would know to stay away, and yet here I was.

I pushed past a Goron sentry with a nod after he took only a moment to recognize me, or was it a she? Hard to tell. Few had any definite features with which a trained could focus on to tell the different. I had come to realize since first meeting the creatures that tracking their scars and inventory would have to do in place recognizable features.

Several more strides pulled into the camp proper as the leader himself departed and I was met with the appearance of several more humans. Or as human as was discernable from a first glance. One was adorned with what appeared to be a leather robe…- no a duster that was so common with the yanks. Guess even the Omniverse suffered the Americans. The second of such individuals was less placable. I didn’t miss however the numerous weapons that were strapped to him.

Odd, were these the ones we had been expecting to meet up?

While I was proof that underestimating someone by appearance was in general going to result in a low life expectancy; these people didn’t look to terribly impressive, even with the tall one with a staff.

A walking stick or a true staff, like the Celtics once used?

“Nealaphh!” I gave a warning call more in hopes of attracting attention to the newcomers than the being himself, “It seems to be as the Gorons said. No other means up than the main path or by flight.”

Burning almonds of emerald turned in my direction and inclined its head.

Indeed. In your absence, though, the first of our party have arrived. Its words rippled across my mind. Distinctly alien enough that I could distinguish it from my own, but that didn’t stop my own from responding in kind. I never could get used to it. God save me if Nealaphh ever figured out how to imitate the ‘sound’ of other’s thoughts. Slip them in…

I shuddered and filed the thought away for further research.

Legilimency still remained outside my reach here but it was on my list. That among many other things.

The longer I was within the Omniverse, (that name…!) the more I’d come to realize Nealaphh’s main complaints, and the validity there of, rang true. So much of my power had been diminished while other potentials strung in front of me like a carrot hooked as bait in front of a horse. The carrot ,sweet as it was, that would catch the horse unaware of the prickly thorn underneath, and then I would be trapped here. Truly tapped. Beholden to a power that did not truly believe in freedom.

The question was, was I any more free with Nealaph than I was with Omni?

[Tearen Wover]

Nealaphh suppressed an irritated twitch when Dresden asked what exactly the plan was for the assault. The exact plan had been laid out in detail on the Dataverse for nearly two months now. Did the wizard, in all of his arcane studiousness, lack the facilities to fully read through the message that had doubtlessly drawn him here in the first place? No...no. Nealaphh blinked slowly, banishing the momentary flirtation of rage from its mind. It could make no assumptions about how and why the wizard had delivered himself into the God-Mind's service. Better to just be glad of his assistance and give him the answers he needed.

I am glad you ask, Mr. Dresden.

As Nealaphh said this, wisps of ash and soot began to swirl around the God-Mind, as it commanded the black dust to take shape by the sheer dexterity of its telekinesis. The whispering dust took on the rough shape of Death Mountain, with the Goron Village and their current position highlighted by a flickering cinder amidst the ash. A moment later, Tom arrived and delivered his findings on the survey of the path to the summit.

Harry Dresden, I would like you to meet Tom Riddle, my second. As he mentioned, there is only one path to the summit where Volvagia keeps its lair. The beast commands nearly all the dragon broods of the Ashen Steppes as their progenitor, so I am doubtless that when we move to attack Volvagia, its secondaries will swarm upon us.

Miniature flecks of ash, simulating a swarm of angry drakes, began buzzing around the map as the cinder traced its way up to the top of the miniature mountain.

Thus, our forces will be split into a three pronged assault. Alpha Squad, which will be responsible for attacking Volvagia itself, will continue on to the summit with Beta Squad. Gamma Squad will bring up the rear, and keep the dragon horde at bay while the other two squads perform their jobs.

Two more cinders appeared, splitting from the location of the first. One continued to the very top of the cone of ash, while the other skirted around the top of the caldera.

Beta Squad will infiltrate Volvagia's lair itself. Once Alpha Squad has sufficiently injured the dragon, they will flush it back into hiding. Beta Squad, having planted high-power explosives at key structural points within the caves, will collapse the summit of Death Mountain on Volvagia. This should disable the Dragon Prime long enough for it to be banished to the Underverse, where it can rampage and brood to its heart's content.

With that, the sifting model of the mountain collapsed in on itself and fell back onto the soot-ridden ground, causing a small cloud of black detritus to drift into the air around them. The red light of the Steppe's gleamed ominously off of Nealaphh's chitinous skin, and an updraft from a distant lava flow caused its robs to flick and slap the air gently.

Satisfied?

[Harry Dresden]

Harry knelt down examined the scale model of the mountain, constructed via the being's telekinesis alone, with more than a little academic interest, though he did keep his distance. The thought that anything had that much minute control was astounding, and without any form of incantation, the sheer number of variables that must be going on behind the scenes was just astounding. This, of course, assuming that there wasn't some kind of shortcut going on, but even so, that would be impressive in and of itself. The wizard wasn't rude enough to try poking the delicately-controlled model with a stick, seeing as he was trying to be helpful today, as opposed to antagonizing the strange being beyond mortal kenning, as was the habit when he encountered such things in Chicago.

The approach of another man commanded Harry's attention, and the wizard drew himself up from his position on the ground, resting his staff against his shoulder to give a brief wave as Nealaphh introduced his "second", a man by the name of Tom Riddle. Wait, what?

The shadowy being continued on with the briefing, and Harry filed the name away for a return to the forefront of the conversation later. He didn't particularly envy Alpha Squad's job, and he'd probably be a detriment to Beta squad. Despite the lack of sarcastic inflection, Harry couldn't help but feel he was being mocked a little with the entity's mental query. "Looks like it'll work. I'd be a handicap to Beta, but other than that, I'll do what needs to be done. Probably best in Gamma. I've invented a couple new spells since we last met. Ice magic, good for crowds." 

Turning slightly to face what Harry was beginning to suspect was another wizard, or at the very least a practitioner of some sort, he made sure not to maintain eye contact, the better to avoid accidental soulgazing. It hadn't happened yet, but when you introduced more magic users into the mix, things got complicated quickly. "I know I really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore, but really? Tom Riddle? As in, Hogwarts?" With a little more sense than to directly call out Lord freaking Voldemort, at least before a major operation like this one, he tried a more indirect question than "I don't suppose you're from before you murdered that girl in the bathroom and split your soul apart." Namely, "Didn't you win some kind of award? Special services to the school or something like that?" 

Despite the laws of dramatic tension pointing directly to the contrary, Harry was hoping that this was the Tom Riddle that hadn't yet actually killed anyone, if only because he really did not feel like dealing with Lord Voldemort today, tomorrow, or any day in the near future.

He was already the butt of literally every "You're a wizard, Harry" joke cracked by the Chicago P.D.'s Special Investigations Unit.

[The Rogue]

He takes out his Monofiliament Knife, and starts sharpening it even more. He gains his signature half smile and whispers it’s new name,

“Canis Denta”, then the weirdest thing happens, the dagger glows a pale reddish brown color. Connor drops it in shock, before it touches the floor he uses his foot to catch the flat of the blade,

“Whew, that was close,” he picks it up and puts it back in it sheathe on his left shoulder. He wonders back the way to his small obsidian tent, then he hears faint but new voices. Connor looks over and notices a few more Primes has joined their excursion. He turns around and walks over, taking in their features. One looks a teenager and the other looks about 10 years older than himself,

“Hello I am Connor, and you sir,”, he points to the older gentleman, “have quite a nice coat”, he keeps his half-smile, and hides his laughter in his eyes.

[Gwendolyn]

Revan was sure that if this famed drive took much longer, she would go insane. The primitive vehicle Frost, as she liked to be called, summoned was cramped and loud. Combine that with the background noise of this world, and that made it impossible for Revan to meditate. The young woman shifted her weight to get left side, leaning the side of her body against the door. Herthoughts  found Thor, the mountain of a warrior intrigued her for reasons she herself could not understand. He was an enigma, and Revan hated not knowing things.

" So, Thor, tell me about yourself. I'm curious to know about the mysterious people I find myself traveling with." Revan spoke softly, but nevertheless the noise found its way to the occupants of the truck. Thor turned to her, a strange look on his face, as if he was wondering why she was speaking to him without malice in her voice. Revan threw him a disarming smile, her pearly white teeth showing him that she wasn't nearly as scary and unreasonable as he might think she is.

"What would you wi-" he was forced o stop when they hit a particularly rough pothole, the entire car jostling violently. Revan braced herself, gripped the door, and the worn leather her of the seat she sat in. Her clawed armor ripped through the dry material with a subtle riiiipppp. Revan grimaced as she let go of the seat. Red looked back from the shotgun seat, and she heard a quiet chuckle as the man regarded her handiwork. She glared at him in mock anger, her mouth twitching into the beginnings of a smile.

"Sorry... Complete accident." Rrvan muttered under her breath, once more looking out the window. They were nearing the mountain, the omnious shadow of the ragged dagger of volcanic stone evoked dark emotions in Revan, and she found her mood taking a turn for the worse. She turned to look at Thor once more, regarding him whilst trying to discern why he intigued her. An imaginary lightbulb went on inside her head.

" Y'know, you remind me of an old friend of mine. He was a fearless warrior, and a close confident of mine." She whispered the last part, the feeling of home-sickness creeping her being. Revan wondered if she would ever see them again. Sighing deeply, she removed her datapad from her bodice, and began to see if it operated to full capacity. She looked up as Frost began to speak in the front seat, he voice low and monotone.

" We're close."

[Thor]

"We're close."

 
Thor looked at the woman sitting next to him as she uttered those words. He knew that, were he to turn his head, he would see Death Mountain barreling toward their transport, the end of their journey and the set for their battle. Yet his eyes stayed on the raven haired woman beside him for just a moment longer. She had said he reminded her of a close friend and confidant. Indeed, she too reminded Thor of someone he thought of as a dear friend. Sif had never suffered any man who treated her as less than a warrior. That is why she and Thor had grown so close. Thor saw only warriors in the hearts of those around them. This Revan, carried herself with the same demand for respect. Thor smiled at the woman next to him and then turned his head to the rising peak.

[Red-Hood]

A smile still sat on Red's lips as he turned back to look out the windshield. Death mountain loomed over them as Frost began to slow the truck down. Looking out the dirty window Red looked for a way up. 

A small pathway led up words. It definitely wouldn't fit their large truck, a motorcycle might fit but barely. Red opened the door and climbed out of the truck.

"Looks like the only way up is that path there" Red said ,pointing "This beautiful truck of yours won't fit on the pathway" he said, patting the hood of the truck. " we can walk or summon in a motorcycle, course Thor here can fly" Red said, chuckling as his friend climbed out of the truck. 

"Your call ladies" Red said, hanging in the door way to look at Frost.

[Miranda Frost]

Like her prediction, their travel path to the mountain was as smooth as one could get here. A few potholes along the way caused the people riding with her to rip the already tattered interior of her truck. It didn't really matter, so she didn't give a flying rats ass. The truck lacked the luxury that many treasured. It held only what really mattered, function. It was hardly comfortable, but her body was used to such discomforts. Reaching the end of the road she slowed the truck to a creaking halt. Without a single word she opened the barely hanging door and stepped out into not ash, but an old cobbled flooring. Many tiles of the flooring had long since been missing or broken, but this path had once served an important function. Of what remained a mystery to her.

Her black gloved hand reached up, pulling the eye patch from her artificial eye, the Maybe at one time she had a reason to hide it, but now that reason had been lost with the thousands of memories Omni had ripped from her suffering mind. Cruel maybe, but memories could serve as chains. Right now, there was nothing she hated more than shackles, though of the metaphorical nature than of the literal ones. Miranda was confident that real shackles could not contain her.

Silently musing to herself, she walked ahead of the group, following the path up the rocky face. She "watched" the others exit her car and move to follow her up the rocky steps. She could hear voices ahead as well. Perhaps these were the ones they were here to meet. Nealaph, another who curses Omni. Her eye's recent uplink to the dataverse as they call it coincidentally revealed the benefactor of their meeting. She had many questions. Rather than scour Nealaphh's datapages, she decided it was best to ask in person.

[Gwendolyn]

Revan raced ahead of her companions, needing more than anything to be out of that death trap masquerading as a vehicle. She stopped about ten feet away from the truck, remembering that her cloak and armor were in the bed. "Damn it. Always forgetting the stupidest things." She muttered under her breath, stalking back to the truck. She clipped the mask to her waist, opposite of her lightsaber, and slung the heavy cloak around her head and letting it settle on her shoulders. She shrugged her chestplate on, the red metal gleaming.

She saw companions climbing out of the truck, Frost not seeing to care enough about her creation to disassemble it. Revan shrugged her shoulders slightly, who was she to question another's methods? She had done some things that had been questionable, but they had always has their reasons.

"Each to their own, I guess. Hey! Wait up!" She hasn't realized how far the group has traveled while she had been reminiscing. She had to run to catch up to the small group, stopping a few feet behind, deciding to bring up the rear. Revan wasn't sure they trusted her enough to hold casual conversation yet, anyway. Few people had trusted her enough to do that... She shook her head, dispelling her dark thoughts, instead opting to review the information she had gathered on the way here. 

" I hope this Nealaphh knows what he's doing. We could all get really hurt in the process.." She was eager, despite her skeptical view of the reliability of this plan of his. But a lot of what he said made sense to Revan. At the very least, it should be interesting. Revan stride ahead, pulling up beside Thor, wanting a question of hers answered.

" Where do you come from, Thor. I've never seen anyone dressed or equipped like you." She created to his armor and hammer, which was created tightly in his hand. She thought subconsciously that she could hear the faintest hint of sound, apart from the usual back round noise.  Shouldn't be to much longer til they reached base camp.

[Tom Marvolo Riddle]

My back stiffened but I didn’t hesitate for more than a fraction of an inch in my stride. If I had been drinking or otherwise physically involved in partaking of some sort… I would have choked at the words of what I could only guess was an American Wizard. One with innate understanding of my final years of Hogwarts. Though while my supposed, and patently false, achievements at the school were noteworthy… even I wasn’t deluded enough to think such a thing would have reached across the pond except in the most extremely unlikely of circumstances.

That left either one of three possible conclusions.

First was there had been an American transfer student that I hadn’t met nor noticed, he was from a parallel universe where the first conclusion had happened, or the third he was a wizard of some sort who had read the Harry Potter novels. Knowing my own luck best, I placed my bets on the latter third. It seemed to have the most potential and least likely to kill me due to poor assumptions.

That left me at a disadvantage which I had luckily been planning for since I had first arrived.

I swept the Sorting Hat off my head, held by left hand and with my right I gave a subtle movement to dispatch my wand back into the inside of my sleeve. With my wand arm free, I reached out to offer the man a proper hand shake. The irony of the act of said greeting was not lost on me given that I now had my wand stowed upon my forearm. A wand harness though would keep my tool from being loosened overly much.

“I am indirectly familiar with events that fell along those lines mister… Dresden was it?” I said with a slight bit of forced bluster, although I let my true annoyance at the act being brought up shine through. With a slight calming breath, not that I needed it, I continued, “Though I myself was not party to that… idiotic endeavor.”

Doubt was sowed so easily, taint the truth with just a little bit of dung and that seed would grow into a tree where fact and perspective were blended seamlessly together. And that one little lie was perfectly similar to the truth but could be easily misinterpreted in any way I pleased. And if this fellow truly had read of the world through Harry Potter’s eyes then my name was already burned black.

That alone left me with more than a few options in this ash filled world.

Denying the deaths of my father and the Warren girl would simply make me seem either ignorant or trying to hide them. However if the truth of my Horcruxes were known, then simply dismissing them and the deaths entirely as a fool’s errand which was now more obvious than ever… I at least could then claim innocence by disassociation and merely suffer distrust and work from there.

The other options were by far, more distasteful and would only rebound upon me after already revealing my identity upon the Dataverse.

Pangs of regret now slowly left my face and my breath, “It is an exceptional coat.” I gave a fitting nod to the other companion who had arrived during the short meeting that had born from two… or was it three magisters of magic? Something about the armed fellow had my instincts twisting in knots. That was one thing I was loathed to ignore. Instincts often bore fruit both treacherous and bountiful if dismissed.

What was this web that Nealaphh was weaving? Three workers of the arcane arts, perhaps more on the way- it was quite the start of an army. Especially if the ages of the other two were as true to my eyes as I knew of my own people. Wisdom and experience could make even the bluntest of weapon sharp and deadly.

[Thor]

Thor looked at the ash laiden path before him. It was a desolate and steep climb. Thor tried to stay next to Red-Hood, but as the ground became more treacherous and uneven his companion's seemingly naturally superior speed and agility quickly separated the two. It was then that Revan strolled up beside him, reiterating her question from their ride to this mountain.

"Where do you come from, Thor. I've never seen anyone dressed or equipped like you." 

  "Ah yes," Thor's voice rang with pride as he spoke, "I come from Asgard, home of the gods." He looked down at his armor. "There I was the Prince of Asgard! The armor I wear is one gifted to me by my father. It was given to me after I claimed my first victory in battle. My cape was a lesson my father tried to teach me. It distinguished me from the normal soldier. It was supposed to show me the dangers of arrogance as it drew the attention of stronger enemies. However the plan backfired as ended up being able to crush all that opposed me. Now it is joked that the cape is meant to warren cowards so that they know who to run from." Thor laughed, then let his eyes fall upon his Hammer. "This is Mjolnir. This is my Hammer. With it I command the skies. It is a heavy burden," Thor looked ahead at his agile companion and the Frost woman nimbly navigating the rocky terrain, "but it can be very enjoyable at times." Thor began to spin his Hammer as he took Revan's hand. Thor released his Hammer, grabbing onto it's lanyard at the last second. Thor and Revan went flying, ignoring the rocky path beneath them they quickly caught up to and surpassed Red-Hood and the Frost woman. Thor did take note that though they moved very differently, they did seem to keep pace very well with each other. Thor flew up high enough to get a good view of where the path lead to and seeing what looked like a village, began flying top speed toward it. He did not want to wait any longer than he had to to slay this dragon. He was ready for a good fight.

[Red-Hood]

"Show off" Red said, chuckling as he watched his friend fly over them. His smile grew wider seeing that he had a shocked Revan grasping tightly too Thor. 

"Kind of a ladies man isn't he?" Chuckling again.  

The path began to even out for Frost and Red, in the not so far off distance the sounds of the other primes moving about drifted towards them. Tents and small campfires littered the area. 

At least we will have a place to sleep Red thought. With out realizing it his hand had been brushing Frost's, who now was looking at him with her icy stare. Red was glad he was wearing his helmet or else his name would be Red Hood due to the shade his face now was.

"So Frost, tell me more about yourself" Red said, trying to take the attention off of the awkward moment. Frost raised her brow skeptically at Red.

"Uh you know just figured since we are going to be fighting together, wouldn't hurt" Red said, stammering as he spit the words out. 

What the hell is wrong with me? Red thought angrily at himself. Usually he had no problem talking to women, mostly because he didn't care. But that icy stare that Frost gave off seemed to pierce through him, as if he wasn't wearing his masks at all.

[Harry Dresden]

Harry was a little disconcerted with the fact that Riddle actually doffed his pointed hat and concealed his wand to offer a handshake. Still, he didn't just stand there in shock; he took the other wizard's hand and gave a firm shake. It was a sad fact, but strangers usually didn't react well to a tall man in a dark coat, carrying a large staff and claiming to be a wizard. Other wizards tended not to like him, given his rather... irreverent attitude towards tradition, but then, he doubted that there were books about his life in other universes. It would just be a bunch of stories about some bumbling wizard P.I. almost getting himself killed on a regular basis. Even then, they were probably, to use the language for Tom's world, Muggle books, and the likelihood of his rather messy life being a children's series was laughable. Somehow, he doubted an adult Tom Marvolo Riddle would pop down to the local bookstore for a mystery novel, if they even did exist.

This multiverse theory was a headache.

Still, this Tom claimed not to be involved in the whole Chamber of Secrets debacle. Harry didn't believe it, not really, but there were much more important things to do today, and he could see to his Warden duties regarding warlocks at a later point, like never, considering his thoughts on killing people for one mistake. It'd be hypocritical of him to judge Riddle for killing someone when he'd done the same, and for a pretty bad reason. Self-defense was what they'd called it, how Ebenezer had justified him to the Council, but really, Harry still had doubts. He could've hid. Justin couldn't keep sending creatures after him forever, without a fresh link he'd have nothing to go on. But he wanted to end it on his terms, and he'd burned Justin to death. He thought he'd murdered Elaine, too, and he had been so relieved to see her again. Confronting young Voldemort could be delayed for a while, yes.

The sudden onslaught of compliments regarding his coat was a little surprising. Usually people joked that he looked like he'd walked off the set of El Dorado. "Thanks, both of you. It was a gift." He actually smiled, remembering his young apprentice. The smile faded when he realized that his absence meant she was considered a warlock because of the asinine terms of the Doom of Damocles. Lea might have been "watching her" in his absence, that was was a godmother was supposed to do, but he remembered her... help... well. It was almost as bad as the alternative. "Not to mention a little project." He flipped the collar over, pointing out some of the more prominent runes embossed into the leather. "Magical body armor. It takes kinetic energy and spreads it out. Bullets and the like still hurt, but they don't penetrate it. Feels like getting hit with a baseball bat, but it's a longer-lasting enchantment than an actual shielding spell." Honestly, he was glad to have one person to talk shop with, possibly two if the sensation he was picking up off of the newcomer was any indication. Magic was hard to understand, but honestly, Harry enjoyed it. There was a reason wizards called it The Art. It was a high expression of human ingenuity, and being able to speak with someone who understood it was a privilege, when most people looked at it as "just magic" and didn't see any further than that. The fact that one of those people might or might not be Lord Voldemort aside, Harry's pride in his work hardly ever got a time to shine. "Glad to meet you, Connor. I'm Harry."

[Miranda Frost]

"Wouldn't hurt"

Miranda assumed it wouldn't. Not him anyhow. Not knowing oneself is an embarrassment nearly worse than death. They say that being forgotten is a second death, so what if one forgets oneself? Miranda sighed and crossed her arms as if hugging the thick, heavy fabric to her form would warm her cold heart. "I fail to see why you would need to know. However, you know as much as I do.", she said shrugging to herself. Her metal prosthetic arms  fell to her side, her head turning to glimpse back at the ones following.

Without their knowing, her eye scanned them, feeding information into her mind about their capabilities but not necessarily their background. However, through the tools a man wield, Miranda could guess what kind of person that man is. Red himself did not don the colors of an army or police force and his weapons supported this. He was a scout of some kind or spy. He wasn't tied down to one army or ideal, but perhaps a mercenary of sorts.

Red's Companion, Thor, was more familiar to Miranda than she'd like to had admitted. Its true her memories about herself were wiped from her mind, she wasn't completely empty. She held knowledge from her original world. This man was Thor, Norse god of Thunder. Miranda grinned behind her mask. It seems not even gods were immune to Omni's touch. Thor didn't seem to lament from being taken, but rather flowed with the events that transpired around him in the same manner a cloud would. It was a respectable trait at the very least.

And then there was the other woman. From their first encounter Miranda generalized that she was a telepath of sorts. Her more in depth analysis wasn't far off either. She manipulated a mystical power that Revan mentioned as the Force earlier, though this was more of a guess than anything. Other than that the armor composition and the weapon she wielded was more foreign to her than she would have liked. To determined more specifics about those, if Miranda was still interested, she'd have do another analysis later.

The group seemed to have stumbled upon a village of sorts, or perhaps a war camp  if Nealaphh's message was any indication. This only mean the foursome was in the right place and just in time to. Miranda doubted they'd have to wait much longer, the tension in the air was as thick as the dark, low hanging ash clouds that clung to Death mountain. Before long the group arrived to the center of the camp, where another group of four waited.

"We are here.", she announced to the group,  her steps shortened to a slower stroll. Out of those four, only two seemed to be human, and even then only one of the two wasn't disguised as such. This... being must be Nealaphh. It was strange though, for most of the information she scanned from him didn't quite make sense in her mind. Why was this the case? Perhaps human minds could only comprehend subjects that are themselves human. She'd have to fix this at another time.

She nodded towards the other three, human... male figures mainly out of politeness and turned toward the three eyed being itself. "My name is Frost. Me and the ones behind me have come to lend a fist in your.... " Her eyes glanced up at the hulking mountain face. "...Endeavor"