Issue 1 Downtime

((open))

Unlike the others, there was nothing wrong with the younger Murphy except the concerns about her possession and...let's say poor choices. She was currently being held in detention cell. For her own safety.

This bites.

Nailah steps into the room, holding the silver arrow (still with some of Hannah's blood on it) and the bracelet as if they were a dirty rag or something.

"Well then, I'm told that we should have a little talk." she says, opening the holding cell and stepping inside. She doesn't seem particularly concerned with her trying to flee, it seems.

"Ugh. Everyone is totally overreacting," Murphy says. "Murphy heals, like, super-fast. Plus, I don't even know if she feels pain. And Haag said that the bracelet wouldn't work unless we weakened her first."

"Well you apparently talked a student into jamming this into your sister's eye and considering it's made from silver it might have done more damage than a normal weapon. So people are a little on edge. But what I want to know is who this Haag is you're talking about and where you got these items."

"I..." the idea that she might have actually hurt her sister seemed to make her falter. "I don't know. She's just...she's like a Nord or Norse or something."

"And what did she say that convinced you to attack your sister?" she says, not pressing the potential harm she might have caused any further because it seems the message already got across.

"She didn't say anything," Murphy mumbles. "She showed me the future. Murphy went out of control. She hurt a lot of people and no one could stop her so..."

Murphy is quiet for a moment. "It didn't end well."

Nailah silently groans. She hates being a hypocrite and even more so when she's aware of it. "So you decided to take matters into your own hands based on that. Where did you get the arrow and bracelet from?"

"She taught me how to make them," Murphy says. "I was kind of like, whatever, 'cause you know. Magic. But then I remembered that Murphy is literally a werewolf."

"Soooo...yeah. I kind of just went with it."

"Can you talk to her now? Can you bring her here?"

"No. I don't know crud about this stuff," Murphy says. "I was just following directions."

"Is Murphy going to be alright?"

"Damn..." she mutters under her breath.

"Yes, she's going to be okay, though we're not sure how well her eye will heal. Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Oh! There was something," Murphy says. "She said she worked for someone named--"

Murphy stops. She frowns.

"That's weird. It's like I can't say--"

She stops again. She looks confused and a bit frightened.

"Can't tell me their name, great." she sighs. "It's alright, don't be frightened, there's nothing wrong with you. Some names have power, that's all this is."

"But I know it!" Murphy says. "I can help. I just.."

She frowns.

"Haag's here. Well, not here here. But, sort of here. I can hear her."

"She says she wants to talk with you."

"Certainly. Are you okay with that?"

"Sure," Murphy says. As soon as she agrees her head and shoulders slump over. She looks up, still hunched a bit, and chuckles. Her eyes are grey, unmoving, and not even really looking at Nailah.

"She's a sweet girl," Murphy says in an ancient voice that crackles with the sound of autumn leaves.

"You must be Haag. I'm Nailah Weaver, High-Priestess of Sekhmet. You wished to talk to me?"

"Well, I didn't want you bullying the poor girl," Haag says with a chuckle. "I'm rather fond of her."

"I had no intent of doing so but I appreciate you trying to protect her."

"Now. High Priestess of Sekhmet, was it? There's a title for you," Haag says. She sounds a bit insincere. "'I'll tell you this, dear. In my experience it's a bad sign when a high priestess needs to get a second job."

"Did you just possess this child to insult me or do you have something of substance to say to me?"

"Impatient and no sense of humor. You're someone's high priestess, alright," Haag says with a chuckle. "Relax, dear. I'm not hurting her. I'm no evil spirit or two-penny demon. I play by the rules. Don't come where I'm not invited and never do anything without permission."

"But since you're so eager to get on with business, here's the deal," Haag continues. "I have a story to tell you. It's important, especially for that furball and her friends, but my boss doesn't let anything go without a deal."

"So, here's my offer, a story for a promise. I tell you something important and in return you promise to get this girl some protection from all those things that aren't so nice about taking the bodies of young girls. I think you know the type."

"That's an easy promise to make. You have a deal."

"Lovely. You have no idea how much of a pain in the tuckus people can get about making deals with witches," Haag says.

"So, once upon a time, there was a nice human woman from Midgard. Nice gal, good head on her shoulders. She was upset because she lived in a dark time where everything was shit. There was all sorts of nasty bits of magic and monsters from the other realms running around trying to carve out little kingdoms or just stuff as many people in their hungry little mouths as they could.'

"This gal, she gets it in her head to get the All-Father to do something about this and she heads out to find him. She wanders around a bit--finds a magic boat, fights some elves, yadadyada---until eventually she gets to the big guy himself. He refuses to help. Says its not his business and forces her to leave."

"Angry and not thinking straight she sails to the river Ván. She finds Fenrir and tries to set him free. The gods stop her, but not before Fenrir bites her. His blood seeps into the wound and poisons her. The gods exile her from Asgard and leave her dying in a forest in Midgard."

"But this gal's too stubborn to die properly. Or maybe she gets a little help from an interested party. The story of how she survives is unclear. But whatever the case, Fenrir's blood twists her up inside and makes her into a werewolf."

"Has anybody ever told you that you're a terrible storyteller? But alright, no need for the whole epic, I get the idea. So you're saying Miss Murphy's curse is not of the Darkhold? As far as curses go that's reasonably good news."

"This is an Asgardian story, dear. You either get the Cliff Notes or you're stuck listening to me for the next six days," Haag says. "As for the Darkhold, who knows? In my experience, people don't get twisted up like she did without a push and the story is maddeningly vague about what happened between 'dying in the woods' and 'howling at the moon'."

"That's all well and good, but what does that mean for the Murphy sisters? The older one seemed to have her curse under a reasonable amount of control until now and from what I've been told it almost sounds more like her sister's actions were what caused the situation to spiral out of control."

"As long as Mama Wolf is awake, there is no controlling the curse," Haag says. "It'll eat her alive until there's nothing left but the hunger for blood and magic."

"This is the oldest type of werewolf story there is, dear," Haag says with a chuckle. "Find the first wolf. Kill it. Save your students and Midgard."

"It's that simple."

"I hate wolves..." she mumbles under her breath.

"Just so we're on the same page here, we're not talking the one that bit Miss Murphy but rather the first wolf?"

"I never said it would be easy," Haag says.

"Of course not. And what's your role in all this?"

"A regretful party," Haag says. "One who is trying to make amends."

"And you wouldn't happen to know where we should start looking?"

"As soon as I know, you'll know," Haag says.