The Gatekeeper has in his home a labyrinth, molded into the walls; it is a meditation tool, an aid to his peculiar Sight. He runs his fingers over the ridges, contemplatively, and lets the images flow.
The White Court, crippled, possibly dying; unable to aid the Council, but similarly unable to aid the Red Court. It is amazing what one man can do, should he set his heart to it; amazing, and a little horrifying. One Warden severely injured, one in a… worrying state of mind. But Dresden has always worried the Council.
The Gatekeeper smiles. This will be fun.