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Third Host: Ezra and Mefathiel

May 15, 2008

Mefathiel guided Ezra through a few bent rules and shortcuts not accessible to the general public. Even with the extra help, it was still dawn by the time they pulled into a questionable neighborhood in the Windy City. Ezra pulled the car up in front of an old office building.

“So was it a quiet trip because we took a strange route, or should I be worried?” said Ezra.

Mefathiel watched the building a moment, then opened the door and stepped out of the car. “Be worried.”

Ezra closed his eyes and took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. “I have a stop we need to make after this.”

Mefathiel led the way into the building, answer back over his shoulder, “Where is that?”

“Safe house in the city. I think it’s time to gather some weapons.”

“I wish I could argue against that,” said Mefathiel. He led the way inside and up the stairs. At the end of the hall was a door with smoked glass with the word ‘Detective’ on it. Mefathiel knocked on the door and waited.

“It’s pretty early, maybe he isn’t here yet?” said Ezra.

“He sleeps here,” Mefathiel knocked louder, “and technically doesn’t really need sleep.”

Ezra frowned and stepped up to try and look through the glass. “Doesn’t look like anyone is here.”

Mefathiel pulled a set of well worn lock picks from a pocket and leaned down to the lock. He frowned, tested the knob to make sure it was locked, then started picking it. “Someone else without a key has been in here.”

“Well that’s a good sign… Also, should you even be doing that kind of thing?”

Mefathiel shrugged and twisted the knob. “I don’t seem to be any worse off now, do I?” He pushed open the door to reveal a small office that looked like something straight off a movie set or out of a novel. Big desk. Two chairs in front of it. An extra chair off near the filing cabinet. An old battered coat rack. The two men looked over the room, then back to each other.

“Nothing obvious,” said Ezra.

Mefathiel nodded, then slowly stepped into the room. First he headed for the desk. Ezra stepped in after and moved for the filing cabinet. Both stopped dead as a soft red light pulsed through the room once.

“That was a warding spell of some kind, wasn’t it?” said Ezra.

Mefathiel frowned and moved to a window, trying to push it open. It wouldn’t budge. He turned and picked up the chair, then swung it hard into the window. The chair shattered on impact. “A really good one.”

Smoke began curling up through the floor boards. Ezra crossed to the door and knelt down, tracing fingers over the ground, following faint traces of glyphs with his fingers. “How flammable are you?”

Mefathiel frowned and started shuffling through folders on the desk. “Normally I wouldn’t be to worried about it. But if they’re using magic that can hold me this solidly, I don’t want to know what else they might have to make sure I burn properly.”

Ezra coughed and waved back smoke, continuing to run his other hand along the floor. “Find what you can, then be ready to do something about me.”

Mefathiel looked up in time to see shadows in the room being drug in toward Ezra. “Bad idea, we can come up with something else.”

Voice seeming as though Ezra is in intense pleasure and pain at the same time. “Not fast enough.”

Outside smoke billowed out from the lower floors. Suddenly the building seemed to sag inward slightly before the top floor exploded, flames lashing high into the sky, then quickly dieing back down to smolder inside the building again. The pieces never rained back down.

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