What's the Catch?

[Cinnabar]

"Compassion? Almost always worth the effort." Almost. There are times when it might be considered misguided, indulgent, even dangerous. But at this point in the Governor's account it had been simple kindness. Pity.

"I'm no expert, but I gather that's often the way with rabbits - those who aren't skittish and quick to run make a good meal for all kinds of things." But then the aftermath is hinted at, terror and madness. That... hm. Yes, that is not encouraging at all. That Catch had shown himself capable of guile, of deceit, that also was noted in crisp strokes of black ink.

It was as well that Glenn had gestured to forestall the questions raised by the issue of mental monsters, for there were plenty of them. It was becoming still clearer why Cinnabar had been selected for this task - the comparison was increasingly unsettling, uncanny, though as much for their differences as their similarities. A stranger, lost, forgetful of his past, of everything he was; shaped and influenced by those around him, by the terrible events that were a basic part of life in Myrken Wood; aware of a deeper presence, a lurking something that existed within his mind and yet independent of his own thoughts and volitions.

That it was outside events and interference that made Catch dangerous was... perhaps not entirely a shock. Myrken was adept at providing such things, countless threats and horrors and danger and dread. Horrors which would test the limits of the soundest mind, let alone one already fragile and confused. A land crawling with monsters, many clothed in human skin.

A werewolf? Of course, why not?

"Go on."

[Glenn]

Guile and deceit, yes. Even then, Catch had grown from a skittish animal, himself, to a rather clever, if muddled child. He would continue to grow in a strange, splintered path. Perhaps if it had just been Glenn alone, Glenn and Dulcie, the squire boy, Rhaena, they could have managed to civilize him. Stranger things had happened. But that was not to be.

"As I said, various and sundry outside influences have shaped Catch in his time here. Some of the worst will shortly become apparent. Most of those truly had the worst of intentions, selfish, dangerous, or just independently destructive. Others, however, had what they felt to be the best of intentions." Simple and straightforward. Good intentions in Myrken often led to terrible terrible places. "Just as we were making headway with him, and at this point i had some more time to examine him, might I add, for I had found a way to temporarily NEUTER Jirai." If she were just a simple beast, and really, Burnie spent nine months training with her every morning. That is exactly what he would name her, a beast, and for a time he neutered her. "Just then, two things happened."

There was so much they could have spoken about. Glenn had insisted upon Catch, however. Yes, it was how he felt Cinnabar could be useful. Yes, it was pressing. Yes, it did not have the precise physical risk of dealing with Aeryn or the tailor and the drow. Still, there were other things they could have spoken of. This was one. "The first was my disappearance. I was taken into Underdark for a month. I escaped. If you truly wish, we can talk about it at some other point. For now, it is simply not important. What is important is the fact that I was gone for a month."

Would Cinnabar let it sit? The Governor assumed so. He had promised to tell the tale later on, after all. "In my place, was an opposing force. Kacela arrived as a tall, dangerous looking, savage warrior woman. She claimed to be here to help protect Myrken. In her own way, I know she means it, but her priorities are different from ours." Much like Jirai, "she is more beast than woman. After my return, I would learn the full truth of that. Shortly before i was taken, she appeared, and while I was gone she encouraged Catch to give in more and more to his animal nature. They ran in the woods together. I truly believe that were it not for my absence and her arrival we truly could have civilized him. Though i did not know it then, due to both occurring at the same time, there was simply no turning back."

[Cinnabar]

"Jirai? You were better able to contain her than we managed with that other one? Ser... Seran? Sarayn?" Drow, a recurring and insidious problem in the region; the mountains were raddled with entrances to their lairs, and that was just the ones the surface-dwellers knew about. That Glenn had managed to deal with her for a while - well, that was certainly impressive.

In his time Calomel had considered various possibilities, some more fanciful than others - collapse the entrances to their realm, flood the caverns with alchemical fumes, simply march in with an army and make a proper war of it - but ultimately the risk was that this would serve only to stir up the Drow against the surface, provoke them into making a war of it. So instead the irregular incursions were dealt as they arose, an imperfect and incomplete solution.

On the subject of Glenn's abduction and escape, that also was noted - and warranted a moment's quiet scrutiny from his friend, an ultimately frustrating effort to gauge the effect it had had on the mapmaker. Still unreadable, inscrutable, hollow. Or perhaps that was the effect.

"I truly wish." A firm nod emphasised his interest, and with that he was content to let the conversation move on. For now.

Kacela's name joined Dulcie's in the margin, a possible source to interview at a later date.

"I'll confess I don't know much about skinshifters. Is she... trustworthy?" Perhaps not the right word, but close enough. There were tales, of course - those who changed forms, who ran as beasts, and sometimes hunted as them. Wild animals, feral and unpredictable. Savage.

"How did she persuade him to run with her, given his fear of the Wolf? Or was her true nature not known at the time?"

[Glenn]

"I almost wish they dealt with drow more in Razasan." It was an idle statement, though while Burnie's body was relaxed in his chair, his eyes were focused, harsh things. He'd show little emotion, but something burned within him on this topic. "I could probably win myself some sort of academic title if I wrote a paper on what I did. I gave her compassion. She didn't know what it was, but it was crippling for her. To feel for others. I'm sure she would tell you compassion was the most wretched thing in the world."

Good, no talk of the abduction. To be honest, after Cinnabar butchered Sarayn's name, it'd all be a little awkward. Better for later, hopefully far later. It was said to be therapeutic to talk about such things, but Glenn Burnie was far, far past the need for therapy. He was a man without doubt, without hesitation. He was a being of determination and self-assurance. Unstoppable.

"All sorts come to Myrken if you just wait long enough." It was true, frustrating as it may be. He had seen all manner of being, from minotaur to pixie. It was endlessly aggravating. "It's a good question though. The answer, as I indicated before, is that I trust her intentions but not her understanding. She thinks like an animal and sees us as cattle, as a herd for her to keep predators away from. There is some advantage to be found in that, but it comes at a loss of dignity, and perhaps more as well."

Now, though, Cinnabar has earned himself a little smile, and a nod to go along with it. "Another good question, this one better than the last. I'll fully admit that it's what really made me turn my eye to Catch, to really start to try unraveling the quandary. Let me put it this way." Those clear-eyes would accompany the smile, staring at him head on. "Imagine yourself not just lost when it came to memory but also the ability to reason. Imagine yourself physically marked, scarred. Scared. There's a being in your dreams, a mocking, terrifying force that haunts you, that speaks to the power within you, but also that promises a certain protection. Perhaps it doesn't even need to promise it. It doesn't nurture you, no, but it is like touching a flame. It burns you, but it also burns anyone else who would dare put their hands upon you. It leads not just to fear but to reverence. And that is, I think, at least the half of it. The other half was envy. She was so comfortable with who she was, with the animal inside of her. He longed for that, especially as we tried to bring him up to us, tried to teach him control and help him grasp his humanity."

They had failed. Exactly where Cinnabar had succeeded in himself, Glenn had failed with Catch. That is what made today's conversation inevitable. "Still, if it was just me and her, just those two impulse battling, chaos and order, civility and instinct... maybe it would not have become what it did. There were other stimuli though, strange and troubling ones. Treadwell, for instance." Despite the implicit humor found in the resident tax collector of Myrken Wood, the once-mapmaker's smile was now quite gone.

[Cinnabar]

"And their lack of compassion makes them the most wretched creatures in the world." Glenn had given the Drow compassion - not shown, but inflicted. That certainly piqued Cinnabar's interest, and no doubt their later conversation would cover that topic as well. For the present, further attention was paid to the werewolf and her motives.

"Useful as a watchdog, perhaps, if she considers herself responsible for guarding Myrken's people. Provided she can understand that responsibility is not ownership."

Further understanding grew as Glenn explained the relationship between Catch and his inner Wolf, the transition from fear to awe, from loathing to worship. The fire analogy was understood on an intellectual level, that fire burns people, as a generality.

"It is not unlike the Baie's following, or any of the other cults - something powerful and dangerous draws those who feel weak and vulnerable. They draw closer to bask in that power, and feel more powerful in turn." A faint grimace curled at the corners of his mouth, distasteful memories drawn up by that monster's name. "So, a Wolf-cult of one."

Envy, though. That was a different matter again, and possibly harder to resolve - unless Catch could be taught to bind the Wolf, to forge a cage of discipline and control around it. Glenn had said no turning back, as if things were far beyond that point now, but that seemed defeatist; if there was no hope then why involve Cinnabar at all? Myrken had shown itself to be a place for second chances, for recovery and even redemption. Full of events strange enough that anything seemed possible, so why not this?

His musing on the subject was interrupted, however, by an unexpected, incongruous name; enough to snap his gaze to the Governor's in search of some hint of jest. None found.

"Treadwell?"

[Glenn]

"I've tried to work with her, both leashed and otherwise. It doesn't go particularly well. She's useful in the moment," he would admit and there were plenty of moments, especially in and around the Dagger, "but less so to be relied upon in anything involving planning." And truly, everything Glenn did involved planning. "In the end, humanity is all we have. It is almost a sin to see it thrown away so haphazardly."

A slight nod as Cinnabar makes a connection to Myrken's own resident cult. "Catch learned about the Baie somewhere along the line, by the by. He spent a good deal of time with farmers, working for his keep. That might explain it. But even when he was at his worst, utterly unleashed, he would proclaim, loudly, that whatever he was, it was not a Baie. Ah, I'm getting ahead of myself," and over something so small and inconsequential too, when he had been doing so well. "But yes, fear and reverence of the monster within. That would be a good way to put it."

It was terribly important not to jump ahead, just as it was important to keep driving forward, to keep unveiling what they had learned, what had happened. It was well and good for Cinnabar to briefly hold a false assumption. They had spent months researching down the wrong paths, after all. In this exercise, however, he could not be allowed to hold that assumption for long. On one matter, he had not been mistaken. Glenn had spoken clearly. They had passed the point of no return long before. When that happened, Catch should have been brought down. He had not been. People suffered because of it. Perhaps Cinnabar was here in order to squeeze some worth out of the mercy they had already paid so dearly for.

"Treadwell. It came as a surprise to me as well, Cinnabar." No smile, no grin, not a hint of mirth. "One would think that, if anything, Treadwell would have taken a shine to this friendly madman, would have offered him sweets and toys, as he has for so many of Myrken's strays. And he did that, exactly, but for naught. At the very sight of him, Catch became agitated, terrified, outright hostile. Dangerous. He shouted of the "fat man," a butcher, a villain. He proclaimed that the fat man had escaped from his head much like the wolf threatened to do. We tried to reason with him, to show him how Aloisius was harmless, how he could even be quite beneficial to one such as Catch, but the fear was irrational and extreme." And it would become increasingly troublesome as time went on.

"You have to keep in mind that during this time, Rhaena was traumatized herself, without her power. Lamai was gone. I had few avenues to call upon to get answers. I had observation and experimentation, and the latter had its dangers. What did become apparent was that Catch truly had healing powers. And as you can imagine, all the wrong sorts, upon discovering it, quickly wanted to use it for their own ends."

[Cinnabar]

"I... Treadwell." Confused, turning the thought over in his head as he tried to see how the Councilor could be seen as terrifying.

"He's strange, certainly. A glutton, absolutely, and not a little grotesque with it. But a villain?" No, he couldn't see it. For all those who would try to paint the Councilor as such, a greedy tax-grabbing caricature, Cinnabar had worked with him, had spent plenty of time in the man's company. The fact remained that the man was about as far from a butcher or monster as could be imagined, even considering the regular assaults his wardrobe made on the eyes of those around him. Nonetheless he took a moment to note down this strange aversion, the fearful epithets ascribed to the Councilor.

"I would suspect that the issue lay more with Catch. Perhaps Treadwell bore a resemblance to another of Catch's figments, or a traumatic memory?" Not impossible that some other fat man had done the madman wrong in the past, leaving scars to match the one on his brow. But Glenn had passingly described Catch at his worst, unleashed. And dangerous in Treadwell's presence. "How dangerous, precisely?"

Cinnabar could not help but frown slightly as Glenn detailed the lack of options available in exploring Catch's madness, a reminder of how limited their resources were in such matters; neighbouring territories might have academies of wizardry, schools of army-slaughtering war-sorcerors, trained practitioners of the arcane who could turn their arts to warding against whatever threats might arise. And what could Myrken call upon? An irregular collection of individuals - disparate, willful, unpredictable. Often formidably potent, but just as often woefully unreliable or devastatingly dangerous.

So little wonder, then, that the arrival of another such individual - confused, innocent, trusting, malleable - would be seized upon by... well, anyone with an interest in wielding such power.

"Which wrong sorts in particular?" He had some ideas, but confirmation would be useful.

[Glenn]

Glenn nodded. "I tend to agree, of course, especially in talking to Aloisius about this or at least in trying to talk to him, given the good Councilor's sheer density, and in seeing the two interact. It was all in Catch's mind. That did not make it any less primal, however, as you'll soon see." All things in time. Still, Glenn, up until this point had been underselling Catch's power, how dangerous he could be. It was time to weave more detail back into the narrative.

"By this point there were two major manifestations of Catch's power, past the simple fact that he was a large, hulking powerhouse of a man who did not know his own strength. The first, as I mentioned, was the healing. Not just willing, either. Catch's blood had healing properties. And more. I... imbibed a very small amount, as part of my experimentation." Yes, well, desperate times and all that. Burnie's main source of information gathering was what he could find in tomes supplemented by personal interviews. In this case, neither was helpful. "It was rather worse than an opiate. I've been drugged in my time, Cinnabar. This was worse." He tried to press on quickly. Then, Glenn had not yet become Governor. Oh, the man sitting across from him, the man who THEN had been governor, had been so thoroughly absent that he did not come to save his friend, lost as a prisoner of Underdark. Despite that he was still considered theoretically reachable. Self-preservation wasn't quite as important for Glenn Burnie as it is now.

As for the second..."When Catch was at his most agitated, there would be signs of that Wolf coming to the forefront. It usually did not do much save for insult and threaten, but it was a harbinger for something worse: glowing tendrils of energy coming out of Catch's head, out of the scar, when he was at the very height of his agitation. They could interact with people. Grip. Toss. Swat, and they moved based on simple emotions. Curiosity, Hatred. Fear. They could be severed, at which point they would fade. Both of these elements are very likely symptoms of a greater power." Again, more was to come, but by this juncture, Catch had already shown both manifestations.

"As for those who took interest in him, the first were Jirai and Suede. The process I used to neuter Jirai," and again he spoke of her as an animal, and he did so clinically with only a bit of disdain. It was simply how she was, "crippled the tailor as well. This was due to the unplanned interference of the Dreamwaker. I had protected myself but not Suede. The two of them took advantage of his friendly nature to undo at least some of their damage. You can imagine my concern when I realized this."

[Cinnabar]

Ah, now they were getting to the meat of things - why Catch might pose such a threat to those around him. Though Glenn's description of his experiment was more than slightly startling.

"I see. When did it become apparent that his blood could heal others?" It would certainly increase Catch's value to those who'd take advantage of such abilities. No need to secure his goodwill or cooperation, no need to persuade or manipulate as might be the case if it was an act of volition; no, simple imprisonment would work, harvesting his power as needed. "And how did you get your sample?"

Glenn's description of the Wolf's manifestations was quickly copied into the book - the conditions under which they might appear, the form it takes, its capabilities, its weaknesses. Powerful, yes. Dangerous, most certainly. Unpredictable? Perhaps not, if one knows what to look for.

"So, a change first in his demeanour, in his character, followed by... episodes. At what point would these outbursts end? When he was exhausted, overpowered, when his antagonist was removed?" Prevention of such incidents would obviously be preferred, but given the way of things in Myrken Wood that could by no means be relied upon. So the next best thing was to find how to end them.

Again the mention of neutering Jirai, and an opportunity to inquire after it more closely. Again, suspicions about how it might have been achieved - to impose compassion on the merciless, empathy on the cruel? To make such fundamental changes to another's mind? There were limited means at Glenn's disposal. Limited, but eminently capable.

"That process - first, how was it done? And second, how was it undone? His blood not only heals the body, but removes charms upon the mind as well?"

[Glenn]

Now, finally, another glance down at his notes. Perhaps it was because he twisted the story backwards upon itself a bit. Perhaps it was something else entirely. In truth, Glenn's memory of that first year back after his time in Underdark had... holes. No, not holes. Lapses, in a rather benign way. Everything made sense. Everything was a clear narrative, but some of the details were simply unimportant, and usually no one challenged him upon them. Finally, he would speak, with a little nod. "Anecdotal evidence. I am not.. fond of being healed, ever." Ariane Emory had once explained at length the process of healing and the problems inherent. He had never been particularly fond of it before, but afterwards it became utterly abhorrent.

So it was not a pleasant thing to step forward to test it. "Anecdotal evidence and opportunity. Catch had gotten a small cut while I was talking with him. He.. appreciates personal contact very much. He was glad enough to let me see his hand. I gathered a few drops into my glass of water and took it from there. IT was.." Another pause, though this one, almost surprisingly given the subject matter, wasn't nearly as long as the last. "The colors and sensations were... daunting to say the least. If this was how Catch saw the world, then what progress he and we had made to that point was laudable. Perhaps that is part of why I have never quite given up upon him." Compassion and understanding once again. It seemed a central theme to this meeting, why Cinnabar was here and not some headsman.

"The outbursts generally ended with exhaustion, though, occasionally I had been able to reason with him, to pull him back from the brink. Less and less so, however, and also less direct indication of the Wolf's presence in his destructive action, but that's something to keep in mind moving forward. A year and a half ago it was far easier to pull him back from the brink and his episodes lasted far less time." Again, escalating threat, and why more hadn't been done about him earlier. Glenn was a sharp departure from earlier leaders. He was relatively proactive, but there were blind spots, and here, had apparently been one of them. "I tried to show him how he could control himself, how he was stronger than the beast, than his instincts and desires, but..." A little shake of his head and a small shrug to go along with it. "I suppose i was only so effective. Apparently, he saw the stink of my kidnapping upon me, of Underdark, and it lessened his trust in me, though not his trust of me."

On to Suede and Jirai then. "My guess, and again, this is just a guess, is that whatever the Dreamwaker did to Suede caused some sort of physical brain damage, and Catch healed that. However, I can tell you for a fact that if enough of his power is brought into play, he can affect .." Glenn grit his teeth just a little. "Souls, or whatever... sort of energy a person possesses. His power is that considerable. There is more proof that he was able to undo what the Dreamwaker did to Suede than my neutering of Jirai."

Back to a calmer expression, the crystal clear eyes staring, but everything else mostly relaxed. "With Catch's power escalating, his reasoning starting to slip, and others beginning to use him to their advantage, it was time for me to use whatever resource I could find. Lamai Carver had married Kerrak's son, had become a Baroness in Thessaline, but she was plague-ridden. I saw a chance for mutual benefit. Catch would heal her and she would attempt to stabilize his mind. I had to negotiate away a bit of my dignity in the process, but she agreed to attempt to help."

[Cinnabar]

"Perhaps" a quiet observation, his pen paused in its scratching upon the page, "the problem was that you were teaching something you didn't know, couldn't know. Control, overcoming the beast - you'd no such beast of your own. It'd be like... like a blind man giving painting lessons, hm?" Unless more had happened during his absence than he had reckoned, of course. But that control, the dominance of intellect over instinct was an inborn thing to most - lacked only by the deficient, the deranged. Or those who had it stripped from them.

"Or maybe like trying to teach a blind man to paint? Whichever way round, Glenn, neither teacher nor student can be blamed for failure. But they can be commended for the attempt."

Metaphysical matters, then, a power that can mend or rend souls. A more worrying prospect, something that couldn't be warded away with quick reflexes or sharp steel, that could inflict more subtle wounds than cut flesh or broken bone.

"How did Suede and Jirai gain access to him?" Through trickery, through cruelty and deceit, undoubtedly. That seemed to be the Drow's way. But the talk of a deal with the Thessilanes had him frowning, if briefly; no, he could not blame Glenn for taking a different path to the one he would have chosen, not when he had withdrawn himself so thoroughly from such matters.

"A gamble." An understatement, if ever there was one. "Erratic" didn't even begin to describe his views of the girl Glenn had decided to involve in the tale. More than anything, a dangerous unknown.

[Glenn]

Aha, finally a reaction out of Glenn Burnie. Cinnabar had touched upon something personal with his quiet observation. "I think I know a thing or two about humanity, Cinn." Perhaps more than you, on man of the silver hair. "You can't live in Myrken without seeing and feeling the struggle everyday. That I've just chosen not to give up mine in exchange for power or safety should not be a mark against me being able to speak of it, to understand it. It's my life's work to understand the monsters and creatures that roam these streets and the Wood." And yes, now it was his life's work to control them for the sake of the Myrken people.

"Though," Cinnabar meant well in what he said, and of course he had some specialized knowledge. In this rare moment, Glenn would admit some... allowance. "handling it with a madman, with someone so lost that he does not know REASON. It's more like teaching a man to paint without a brush. He understands the concepts but lacks the means to execute them." Give him his metaphor, Calomel. Otherwise, you might be here arguing over this all day.

Glenn had warned the former governor; there could be spiritual danger. "How did they gain access? They offered him some sort of bribe, a toy or pet or.. just friendship. Imprisoning Catch would lead to terrible things. I knew that already, and I had warned him against the two of them. I thought that might be enough. Obviously, I was mistaken. Later on, I would resort to more extreme means."

Lamai, then, and for so many reasons, Glenn had such little love for her. One could have certain professional levels of respect without love, though. "She healed me once, Cinnabar. She has certain.. oaths, which she values greatly. Above all geographic loyalties. Above all the loyalties in her life. She could do him good in a way no one else could, at the time. And for a while, it seemed as if she did exactly that. It was a selfless agreement on my part." There was that lack of love, sprouting in his words. "She would tell me nothing of what she found in his mind. I learned no secrets, gained no edge. But it would have been worth it, if her binding had just held."

Another pause for apparently, given the subject ahead, Glenn decided it would be best to take a rare breath. He had such lung capacity when it came to speaking. Sometimes, that was the only thing he was able to bring to bear against all the magic and darkness around him. Words. A flurry of words and the truth he felt in his heart empowering them. Now, though, the narrative was about to hit a dark turn, another point from which there had been return possible. "I find that more often than not, what causes our undoing here is simple, frustrating coincidence. The wrong person with the wrong intent at the wrong time. A chance meeting. I do not claim that Myrken itself is out to get us, but ... the soil is fertile for unfortunate confluence here, as it seems to be nowhere else. Were it not for what happened at the Ball, Cinnabar, her solution might well have kept."

[Cinnabar]

"I don't mean it as a poetic metaphor for, for man's inner struggle against base impulses, Glenn." Still quiet, careful in tone. "I mean a beast, a... being, that speaks with a distinct voice rather than just a reflection of your own." Barriers of understanding, of experience, the differences between them thrown into sharp relief. Perhaps Glenn knew something broadly similar through his connection with Rhaena, but even so... not quite. Yet another conversation for another time.

"Did she tell you what she did to him, this binding? Binding the Wolf so it could not act, or binding his mind so it could better resist?" Small distinctions, but perhaps critical. That it had failed meant either the Wolf was too strong to be contained, or Catch's mind was too fractured to endure. Neither possibility was a happy one.

But whatever the case, it had failed, and in all likelihood catastrophically. A river rises, fields flood and drain after a time. A dam bursts, whole villages are swept away forever.

"It might have kept for a little longer - until some other frustrating coincidence came along." Days, weeks maybe. But certainly not forever. "What eventually unravelled him?"

[Glenn]

With some reluctance, Glenn would acquiesce upon the point. It did him no good to claim understanding, and even if he had it, was not something that he would admit to himself. If Burnie had a beast within, he channeled it towards the welfare and well-being of Myrken Wood. He had used it as a tool and conquered not just it but the province. And he did it without even thinking about it an iota. There was no need to discuss this further.

"She told me NOTHING, Cinnabar. I trusted her motives, however. Her professionalism. My only recourse to get information from her, past torture, was Rhaena, and she was not yet well enough to send into that maw of frustration and irritation. No, Lamai made it a point of pride not to tell me anything, but there was a marked improvement in Catch immediately."

As for what undid all of her work, and so quickly at that? First, a disclaimer. "Only the bare minimum of details are important in what happened next. I lost time and focus following the obvious lead that was to surface and I would like you not to do the same." Best that they both not suffer for the same logical mistake. "There was a grand ball. A bard named Descant staged it as a means of self-advertisement. It was popular, roused excitement in the people, positive anticipation. I was too busy to attend but I was glad for its existence. The people need such distractions now and again, and they had been hard-working and diligent. They deserved it. Unfortunately, as you well know, such crowds, such gatherings, are a place where the worst of the worst may walk freely in the light. From all reports, Catch was overwhelmed by the sheer sensation of the crowd, but it was seeing Lamai menaced by no less than Thaddius Dhrin that set him off completely.

"Dhrin resurfaced for that night only. There's been no sign of him since. There's no connection between he and his cult and Catch. I've dug deeper than you can imagine on this," and of course he did. Glenn Burnie was the student of Ariane Emory. Could he be expected to do less? "It was a coincidence of the worst kind. A being full of such wretched darkness threatening someone Catch cared about.. that truly pushed him over the edge. The tendrils went wild, manifesting with far more force than before. People were hurt. There was no indication of the Wolf, however. Perhaps what Lamai did is what allowed for such a bypassing."

Only the tiniest bit of emotion in Glenn's voice throughout the accounting of the ball. He had been more agitated by the talk of Lamai withholding information. "Regardless, I could not sit idly by and hope that the shield of humanity we were arming Catch with would be enough. I had to take some direct action."

[Cinnabar]

Calomel's lips were a thin line as Glenn described the healer's reticence, her obstinate insistence on secrecy; how much of what followed might have been prevented, had she shared with them a better understanding of the madman's condition, of the processes that drove his thoughts? How much blood and pain spared? Hypocrisy.

The description of the Ball was pleasant enough - something to lighten the mood, an excuse to forget, for an evening, the troubles that infested the region. A charming diversion. At least, until the Governor spoke that name - a name he'd never have expected, never have wanted to hear uttered in this conversation.

Thadius Dhrin.

A flash of reflexive rage at the mere thought of the man, he and his blasphemous master; so many deaths, so much horror, and still they infested Myrken like rot in a wound. No sign of him since. No connection. But the fact that the Baie's high priest still existed was galling beyond endurance. Calomel had come so close to ending him, in that windowless room in the Quiet House. So close.

It took a handful of measured breaths before he trusted himself to speak again, before silvered flecks faded from his gaze.

"So... previously in such episodes, it was the Wolf finding a way to run rampant for a time, overpowering Catch's resolve; at the Ball, though, he seized upon that power willingly? He was himself, rather than a channel for the beast? It is possible the Wolf was bound, then, imprisoned. But its strength remains for Catch to call upon, should he need it." Was that it? Glancing to the Governor to see if such theories matched his own.

Hm. Direct action. Though given Catch's nature, fragility combined with capacity for immense harm, it was hard to see what steps might have been taken.