Fear Si, Fear Scath Part II

Everyone in the office heard the knock on the door. Visiting hours had barely begun, but even though whoever was at the council's door was stupidly early it was customary to see the individual or individuals anyway. For Tibias Sharpe, moving from his chair to answer the door was highly convenient. Just before the knock was heard, he had caught Keera giving him a look that was quite uncharacteristic of her. He noticed some odd tension from her ever since he had said good morning, but decided to hold off on talking about it during work hours. By getting up to answer to answer the door he was able to buy himself a bit more time away from the subject, but after the door had been opened Mr. Sharpe was unsure whether it had been worth it at all.

There were two people standing in the doorway. The first was ordinary man who appeared to be of Irish ancestry. He had small traces of magic, but wasn't a supernatural in any regard. His presence wasn't what made Tibias' office workers jump. Rather, it was the unsettling fact that a dead woman was standing in the open doorway. That fact deeply disturbed every individual and a response, though there was no typical one, was making it's way to the tip of everyone's tongue.

Kole just happened to be the quickest to vocalize... "Morgan Fortier." ...and take action. The Grim Reaper drew his scythe and shot forward like a bullet. Nobody could perceive Kole when he traveled at such a speed, not even Shera, who had been reluctantly secluding herself in the corner of the office. Tibias felt a chill on his shoulder as Kole brushed past and swung his powerful scythe, but hadn't the comprehension to do anything about it.

The first thing everybody heard was the sound of shattering glass. Kole's scythe appeared to be stuck in mid-air. Royal sensed both what it was - a magical barrier similar to his own - and it's source - the pendant hanging around the neck of Morgan Fortier's accomplice. That's not all he sensed...

"Kole, wait!" Royal shouted. The Grim Reaper didn't hear the cries of his underling. He was too busy wrenching his scythe free of the barrier. Mcbride was hit with barrier backlash and fell to his knees.

"An irish magical barrier?" Kole twirled his scythe. "You think that can stop me...?"

Kole prepared to strike again, but in that moment the thoughts of everyone in the office, finally caught up with their actions. Tibias pivoted on his foot and socked Kole in the face. The blow passed through Kole's shadowy form, but it succeeded in slowing him down enough for Keera to fly forward and grab her reaper master's scythe. Royal began to chant and summoned a barrier of his own to replace Mcbride's. When Kole's head reformed, he became aware of all of this. He also saw that Shera was standing in front of him with her claws poised to fight.

"Don't even think about it." Shera threatened. "I'm in no mood to do this, Kole."

"How unexpected." Kole said. His eyes flashed with a threatening spark, but neither his voice nor expression showed much change. "Have all of you betrayed me in defense of a-?"

"Kole, that's not Morgan Fortier!" Royal shouted. "It's that shapeshifter from before. The one named Faroth."

"Oh, then I stand corrected. You may all let go of me now." Kole calmly admitted.

The entire altercation had occurred in less than 30 seconds. Carahya had almost no time to take anything in and shifted back to her original form out an instinctive knowledge that being Morgan Fortier was a bad idea. She didn't know why Mcbride was now convulsing on the ground or why the Grim Reapers fellows had turned against him, but she did know that she was actually now terrified of his strength. Several factors outside of her control had just saved her life and with that realization came a misplaced sense of relief. She knew how misplaced it was, as the grim reaper moved towards her wearing upon his face something that could never be called a grin.

"Our little rebel comes home with us. I suppose this day is productive, after all." The Grim Reaper held his scythe at Carahya's neck. "Let's lock you away now, Ms. Faroth."