Nightmare on West End (IC)

[Lone Star]

Sure enough, a black-cloaked figure was standing on the lawn, surrounded by what appeared to be great stones. These stones were arranged in a circle, and sigils glowed on their surface. "I'd assume that's him, yeah." Warlock said.

The figure had a tome in his hands, and was reading from it as he gestured with his free hand. The stones glowed in response, and from the center of the circle white smoke appeared. A hideous shriek could be heard from inside the house as the smoke condensed into a ghostly figure.

Warlock turned back to his two friends. His brow was furrowed with worry and concentration. "So what's the plan?"

[KnightDisciple]

Cobalt Templar squinted his eyes a bit, carefully studying the figure. Right up until the moment the shriek sounded through the house. At that point, he put his hands over where his ears would be, reflexively wincing.

"Crap that's loud."

After a moment, he seems to adjust, his expression even more stern.

"I'm guessing Mr. Smokey over there is probably bad news bears. Can't tell if the necromancer's done, or if this is Stage 1 of 5. Either way..."

He suddenly manifests a huge fist wreathed in blue flame.

"I say we charge in and smack him upside the head. He'll never expect so bold an attack!"

[trollthumper]

"Well, unless he's got wards up front and in back," Nick said. "The last thing you want is for the binding circle for whatever you're summoning to fall apart, but the second-to-last thing you want is someone charging in the front door and causing you to choke on one of the crucial syllables. So, before we go and pound his face in, we may want to make sure there isn't some kind of tripwire set on this door."

With that, Nick got down to his knees and inspected the doors, the windows, and even the walls for any sort of lingering trace of death magic, checking to see where a necromantic booby trap might be lurking.

[Lone Star]

"Probably a good idea, Nick." Warlock said, crouching next to his friend.

Reaching out with his senses, he saw something the other two could not- what appeared to be a skeletal hound, standing watch for the necromancer. Instead of the trap he was expecting, he found the dog standing guard, and no doubt alert to any beings that entered a certain radius of the necromancer. It was a variation on the classic Watchhound spell.

[trollthumper]

"Hmmm... yeah." Nick stroked his chin. "Spectral hound, standing guard outside. Variation of the standard watch dog special -- you set up a guardian to let you know if anyone plans to shiv you while you're pulling off a lengthy ritual." He searched the dingy plates in the kitchen until he found a bone, still attached to... what had once been lamb. He gingerly picked it up. "Fortunately, there are ways around that."

He murmured a few words under his breath, and the badly desiccated lamb chop crumbled away into nothingness. In its place seemed to remain the suggestion of a lamb chop, something ephemeral. "Grave offering for a grave dog," he said, tossing the spectral meal through the door. "Let's see if that keeps him occupied."

[Lone Star]

The dog smells the phantom meat, and happily pads over to eat it. It quickly snaps up the lamb, and it gives the trio the disturbing image of the meat traveling through the dog's rib cage.

"Eww..." Warlock said, gagging.

The grave necromancer turns around. "What was that?" His voice was a ragged whisper, and the three could see the dark magicks had taken a toll on his body. He wore a black suit, covered with grave dirt, and they could tell his skin was a corpse-like grey. He looked at them, and they could see he was nearly emaciated. "I sensed that there were intruders. No matter, of course." He smiled casually at them, and raised a hand. Six skeletal warriors rose from the ground, brandishing swords and cackling menacingly. "Try and get me."

[trollthumper]

"Oh, wow," said Nick, his voice tinged with mock worry. "Such scary skeletons, with dreadful, barrow-dry laughs and sharp, dreadful swords. I cannot say I have ever seen the sight of such a thing. What ever shall I do in the face of such might?"

He balled his hand into a fist. It helped that the house was tinged with death; the ectoplasm that suffused the earth rose up like mud after a long rainstorm, forming into clenching hands. The hands shot up and snatched at the bony legs of the skeletal warriors, as well as the trousers of the necromancer. "Nice trick," he spat out. "Let's see the dancing zombies next."

[Lone Star]

Five of the six skeletal soldiers struggled against the ectoplasmic bonds as they wrapped around their bony forms. Fortunately, the skeletons were not very well-made, and they couldn't escape the powerful mystic grip Nick had placed on them.

The necromancer shrugged off the fist, kicking it with his heel. "Pathetic worm." the necromancer said, drawing in a rattling breath. "Another necromancer like yourself could never match the likes of me. You're afraid to get your hands dirty, so to speak." He grinned and laughed sardonically. "You'll make a good test subject, I suppose. I'll turn your muscular friend into a Frankenstein, like the one you mercilessly killed. It took me weeks to work on him. No matter."

"Now die." He pointed a spider-like hand at Nick, and dark energies formed at the end of his fingertips. Warlock and Nick both sensed the darkest necromantic forces being summoned. He released the spell, and a shadowy blast raced towards Nick!

The blast hits Nick like a freight train, and the skeletons are freed from their ectoplasmic bonds. "Excellent. Fight for me, my skeletal minions!"

The skeletons hammer away at Cobalt Templar and Warlock, but to no avail. "Goddammit." the necromancer says, and puts a hand over his face.

[KnightDisciple]

Cobalt Templar stood there, weathering the useless assault of the skeletons with naught but a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

"That's what you get for bargain bin shopping."

Suddenly, he blasted into the air, arcing his course a bit until he was almost directly over the necromancer. He "braced" against the air, and suddenly the over-sized fist was flying right at the dark wizard! It struck him head on, while a copy of the same fist reformed from fire around CT's arm.

"That's what you get for saying you'll turn me into a Frankenfreak, buddy."

[Lone Star]

The necromancer threw up a mystic shield, which stank of foul sorcery. The majority of the assault was blocked, but his arm weakened and he took a minor hit. "Bah! Your attacks are nothing against a master of death itself. Your attempts to defeat me are foolish indeed." He looked at Cobalt Templar, and his sunken eyes seemed to bore into his soul. "You're a naive fool, and your friends will be mine soon enough. Attack him, my Mistress of the Underworld!"

The phantom, her arms extended, flew at a frightening pace. Her white dress billowed behind her as she took off, and she raked a spectral claw across his face. She shrieked again, a hideous noise which pierced the night.

Warlock kept his force field up, and the blows of the skeletons were neatly deflected by it. "Seriously guys, cut it out. It tickles!" He whipped out his metallic lightning wand, and shot a bolt of eldritch electrical force at the minions. They crumbled, their bones disintegrating under the sheer force.

[trollthumper]

"'Mistress of the Underworld'?" Nick said. "God damn, man, who do you think you are?" He gestured upwards again, and the ectoplasmic hands shot up from the ground once more, grasping at the skeletal soldiers. "You wouldn't get anywhere in any of the underworlds. Hecate would spite you, Ereshkigal would eat you alive, and you'd have to have some really weird tastes to go for Hel or Izanami. You're just a man with a spectral hand puppet and a pile of brittle old bones. You're nothing, in this world or the next."

[KnightDisciple]

The hero in blue flinched a bit at the female ghost's attacks. It hurt, and for a moment he couldn't see straight, but he shook it off. He glanced at the ghost, before focusing on the ghost's controller.

"Seriously, dude? This is just messed up."

He burned through the air towards the sickly-looking spell-caster, and suddenly Cobalt Templar was right next to him, giant fist and all. He had a slightly manic grin on his face as he reared back for a devastating blow with his construct-shrouded hand.

"Time to take a nap, necro-nerd!"

His arm blurred forward, hopefully rocking the necromancer's world.

[Lone Star]

The necromancer took the hit right on his cheek, and stumbled back. Blood rushed from the wound, and he spat out a few teeth. "It will take more than that to beat me, mere mortal. You're no match for a sorcerer of my power!"

Warlock pointed his lightning wand forward, igniting the tip with eldritch lightning. "Oh, give it a rest already. I know you won't be the last hammy opponent we've fought." The lightning shot forward, and aimed true, hitting the evil wizard right on his chest. He fell back and was out cold without a last word.

The ghost shrieked and faded out of existence, and the skeletons fell back into piles of bone. Warlock kicked a skull, and it flew across the lawn. "Nice work, guys." he said, smiling at the other two. "Is everyone alright? I've got a healing potion if anyone needs it."