The Dresden Files > DF Spoilers

Star Born (direct quotes compilation)

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Mira:

  They must all live pretty long lives or are immortal because if only one is born every 666 years, there shouldn't be that many around.

morriswalters:
I'll attempt to answer the question you originally asked.  Harry is a bomb.  One made to target something thing a diverse group of people like those at the meeting that Eb attended with Maggie, feared. It's a safe bet considering Eb's hatred for White Vamps that he was sent by the Council and that the plan was adopted over his objections.

My current guess would be that whatever happened in those two minutes represent what Harry can do.
--- Quote from: Changes ---The general theme was always the same: dead children. The world in flames. Terror and death spreading across the globe in an unstoppable wave, destroying anything resembling order or civilization.

I don’t remember what happened when the ritual went off. There’s a blank spot in my head about two minutes wide. I had no desire whatsoever to find out what was there.
--- End quote ---
This may have been the Merlin's plan in a nutshell. But the Reds weren't the original target.  The rages when they overtake Harry involve something like this.
--- Quote from: Blood Rites ---I had the power and the resolve to bring such a tide of magic against him that he would be utterly destroyed. I would lay him low and make him howl for mercy before I tore him apart. He deserved nothing less.
--- End quote ---
This brings to mind the Norse Berserker. And in the rages he means to use magic to kill, something that Lea tells up that Justin was attempting to teach him.

Mira:

--- Quote ---This brings to mind the Norse Berserker. And in the rages he means to use magic to kill, something that Lea tells up that Justin was attempting to teach him.

--- End quote ---

Maybe that is what he was meant to be, but it hasn't exactly worked out that way.  Yes, he went a bit berserk when Murphy was killed, but he was stopped before he could kill anybody.  Were he really in the mold of a magical Norse Berserker, he wouldn't have been stopped.  As soon as he felt the pain of the burn and smelled the sulfer, he came back to his senses and felt remorse, that doesn't happen with a true Berserker.  I think it is because of Malcolm's genes, and Margaret knew that would be the case as well. 

Conspiracy Theorist:

--- Quote from: Mira on February 16, 2022, 03:55:27 PM ---  They must all live pretty long lives or are immortal because if only one is born every 666 years, there shouldn't be that many around.

--- End quote ---

No there are multiple Starborn in any one sequence but when Kemmler was last  around it was close to the end of the 666 year sequence, so the only known Starborn from a previous sequence is Drakul, who even Kemmler probably didn’t fancy taking on. Time winnows them down. Drakul may not be immortal in that he can be killed other than on Halloween, but may be long lived just like most Fae who are not immortal, or White Court Vampires and is still immensely powerful and resilient. Immortality is the next step up and godhood the next step up from that. It stands to reason therefore as a stepping stone to godhood, you siphon off another beings immortality, hence the Erl King being summoned.

TrueMonk:
All it took to stop his rage was the direct involvement of an angel who was allowed to do so because Butters believed it would work. That is a pretty wild rage.

Regarding starborn and Drakul, did Mavra not say that Starborn are for the master and that they are for the stars and stones?

So we have hells bells, which are probably literal
Then there is empty night which I think is what happens if the outsiders get in.
But then there is also starts and stones which must be Starborn related

The temptation to use black magic to reshape the world is also quite clear in the first book.

Storm Front, chapter 24.
(click to show/hide)But a sick feeling had settled into me, as I looked on this darkling house, with all of its stinking lust and fear, all of its horrid hate worn openly upon it to my Sight, like a mantle of flayed human skin on the shoulders of a pretty girl with gorgeous hair, luscious lips, sunken eyes, and rotting teeth. It repulsed me and it made me afraid. And something about it, intangible, something I couldn’t name, called to me. Beckoned. Here was power, power I had thrust aside once before, in the past. I had thrown away the only family I had ever known to turn away power exactly like this. This was the sort of strength that could reach out and change the world to my will, bend it and shape it to my desiring, could cut through all the petty trivialities of law and civilization and impose order where there was none, guarantee my security, my position, my future. And what had been my reward for turning that power aside thus far? Suspicion and contempt from the very wizards I had acted to support and protect, condemnation from the White Council whose Law I had clung to when all the world had been laid at my feet. I could kill the Shadowman, now, before he knew I was here. I could call down fury and flame on the house and kill everyone in it, not leave one stone upon another. I could reach out and embrace the dark energy he had gathered in this place, draw it in and use it for whatever I wanted, and the consequences be damned. Why not kill him now? Violet light, visible to my Sight, throbbed and pulsed inside the windows, power being gathered and prepared and shaped. The Shadowman was inside, and he was gathering his might, preparing to unleash the spell that would kill me. What reason had I to let him go on breathing? I clenched my fists in fury, and I could feel the air crackle with tension as I prepared to destroy the lake house, the Shadowman, and any of the pathetic underlings he had with him. With such power, I could cast my defiance at the Council itself, the gathering of white-bearded old fools without foresight, without imagination, without vision. The Council, and that pathetic watchdog, Morgan, had no idea of the true depths of my strength. The energy was all there, gleeful within my anger, ready to reach out and reduce to ashes all that I hated and feared. The silver pentacle that had been my mother’s burned cold on my chest, a sudden weight that made me gasp. I sagged forward a little, and lifted a hand. My fingers were so tightly crushed into fists that it hurt to try to open them. My hand shook, wavered, and began to fall again. Then something strange happened. Another hand took mine. The hand was slim, the fingers long and delicate. Feminine. The hand gently covered mine, and lifted it, like a small child’s, until I held my mother’s pentacle in my grasp. I held it in my hand, felt its cool strength, its ordered and rational geometry. The five-pointed star within the circle was the ancient sign of white wizardry, the only remembrance of my mother. The cold strength of the pentacle gave me a chance, a moment to think again, to clear my head.

I have always thought this section was the Harry is momentarily mad with dark power, of course he cannot beat Morgan at this point, much less the entire white council.

Also, wauw this is a great thread :-)

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