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Nightmare on West End (IC)


Lone Star

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"I'm thinking we should just go in. I mean, there's no use in barging in. If he hasn't found us already, we shouldn't give away our position." Warlock said, his Converse padding against the uncut grass. He made his way to the front door, his heart pounding in his chest. It gave him a certain comfort that he wasn't the only one of the three who was scared about this house. Nick had doubtless felt the foreboding that entering a place with such pure evil contained, but this sensation was relatively new to Warlock.

The door creaked ominously as he peeked inside. "We've got the creaking door cliche down, at least." Warlock laughed nervously. The three entered the main foyer, and were confronted by dust and decay. Warlock sneezed, and wiped his nose. The foyer had a huge sweeping staircase, and doors on either side of it. "So where do you think this guy'll be? I hope he didn't go out for a Taco Bell run."

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"There's always a sanctum in a house like this," Nick said, "a shelter where the magus works the art without fear of disruption. When you're dealing with necromancy, it's common to put it in the basement -- sympathy with the grave and that which lies underneath -- or the attic -- drawing on the ephemeral and forgotten. Then again, could be anywhere -- if you're powerful enough, you don't have to draw on sympathies. I understand some guys have taken to putting their stuff in panic rooms these days..."

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Cobalt Templar's eyes darted about. He was definitely ill at ease in this place. Besides the obviously creepy atmosphere, there was the more subtle frustration of being fairly uneducated about necromancy, and really magic in general.

'My ring's bloody magical, but I barely know anything about it, beyond the stuff I see in fantasy movies. Maybe I should have Blake give me a few "Idiot's Guide" books for this stuff.'

As Nick talked about the variety of potential hiding places, CT frowned a bit. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Offhand, I'd say my vote is to head to the attic, and then work our way down. I'd prefer to have to fight our way back down, than fight our way up. Seems like we'd have a bit more freedom of movement that way."

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Warlock as deep in thought. He knew what the outside of the house looked like, but getting the internal plans would have been less easy, and possibly illegal. "I guess we should try the basement. We're probably going to have to look everywhere, but-" As he talked, he opened a door at next to the staircase. It swung wide, and something grey leapt out. "Jesus Christ!"

It landed on the top of the staircase, and the three got a better look at it. Its chest rose and fell quickly, and it looked at them with lifeless grey eyes. Its skin was the mottled color of the undead, and it growled at them savagely. "Well crap. Looks like we've got a revenant."

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Cobalt Templar was a little annoyed at his suggestion being ignored, but hey, Warlock was the expert here.

"I guess the important thing is that-AH!"

He took a couple steps back, eyes widened in surprise, before actually snarling a bit and stepping forward, to within striking distance. As he did so, a peculiar sword mainfested from the ever-present blue flames. He brought it above his head and then down upon the creature, hoping to strike a punishing blow on its undead flesh.

"Agh! Bad zombie! Go away!"

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The revenant snarls and dodges the biting fiery teeth of the chainsword, and leaps onto the ground, right in front of Warlock. His undead claws swipe at him, but Warlock's force field deflected the blow. "Heh! He thinks he can hit me. Let's see how he handles this." Leaping backwards, Warlock pulled out his lightning wand, and let a huge bolt of lightning rip at the revenant. The speedy undead dodges the hit, and it splinters the wall behind it. "Dammit...he's too fast. Corbin, can you grab him?"

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"Revenants, huh?" Nick stood at the ready. "Y'know, you get so used to slow zombies, it's always interesting to run into a fast one. Still..." He reached out his hand, and ectoplasm slowly began to coalesce on the floor. As he suspected, the very structure of the house was soaked with it. The ectoplasm gathered into arms that reached up, seizing at the revenant's legs.

"Mind you, sometimes they're not fast enough..."

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"Nick seems to have the containment well in hand. Let me give that another try."

Shifting his stance slightly, Corbin brought the chainsword sweeping up at an angle, going from the creature's left hip to right shoulder, the teeth buzzing like a mechanical swarm of bees. His face had disappeared under a mostly-opaque plate; clearly he anticipated a bit of mess.

"Eat chainsword!"

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The chainsword swiped up the revenant's chest, causing a shower of necrotized flesh and ichor. "Oh sick!" Warlock said, managing to leap out of the way. The revenant, however, is still standing. Warlock quickly points his telekinesis ring at it, and the revenant's face turns to surprise as he is lifted off the ground. "Take this, you freaky abomination!"

The speedy zombie is slammed once against the wall, like a fly being hit by an invisible fly-swatter, and the three can hear some bones breaking, but the creature is still going!

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"Yeah, that's the thing about revenants," Nick said. "They pick up on a purpose, they do anything to try and fulfill it. Anything. 'Course..." The ectoplasmic construct ensnaring the revenant fell to pieces, and there was a strong feeling of... absence in the air, as if some invisible energy that had suffused everything had just turned off. "...let's see how easily he can fulfill it when the power goes out."

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The revenant shrieks as its power source is suddenly winked out. It falls to the ground, and lands on the wooden floors with a heavy thunk.

Warlock stares at it for a moment, then looks up at the other two. "Hmm, well that was foreboding. You guys still want to go down into the basement? I don't know if our necromancer has his heart all out in the open." He took a moment to look around, and listened carefully. "It would be probable to assume our cover's blown, don't you think? What with our lovely zombie shrieking and all. We'll need to find this guy and take him out soon, before he sends more of his zombie buddies."

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Cobalt Templar let his phantom blade quickly spool down to a stop, though he didn't immediately get rid of it.

"Yeah, I guess none of us were that subtle. But hey, in for a penny, in for a pound. If we're going down, I say we go down. And if we're assuming they already know we're here, no reason to not go gung-ho."

Having said that, he dissipates his sword, letting the energy return to his ring.

"So. Who's going first?"

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Nick took a look over the revenant -- and the area surrounding it -- to ensure that the soul that may have been occupying it was gone, if there was one in the first place. Most revenants come back because of their own will, he thought. Could be our guy just pumped this one so full of necromantic mojo that it developed its own killer instinct. Or he could have just broken one to his will...

"I'll volunteer for front line," he said. "Just in case there's some sort of necromantic tripwire that needs cutting. And hey, if it trips, I can probably take care of whatever nasty emerges from it."

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Warlock nodded. "Well, we'll all watch our backs. I wouldn't expect him to spring zombies on us in the direction we're facing. Hmm?" An open door caught his eye. He opened the door wide, and crossed his arms. "Doesn't really surprise me." Inside the room, dozens of magical tomes were open, with notes written in a mad scrawl. "Oh, looks like he ran out of pages." The walls of the room were covered in a tiny script, with occasional exclamations written a foot high. "The dude clearly went crazy. We'll have to confiscate these books after we take him down...these clearly weren't meant to be seen by human eyes."

He paused as he exited the room, his eyes going blank for a moment. "Wait, what's that?" He turned towards the back of the house. "There. He's outside. I'm getting a strong necromancy vibe. Are you guys ready to take him on?"

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Cobalt Templar nodded as Nick offered to take the lead.

'Tough as I am, I think he'll do better against these sorts of nasty critters. Makes me more relieved, honestly.'

He frowned as Warlock spoke of confiscating the texts.

"If reading these made him crazy, why shouldn't we just burn the books, strip the walls, and burn that too? Do we actually need to keep books that drive people crazy in existence any longer than it takes to burn them?"

When Warlock confirmed the insane magic-user was attempting to flee, his resolve hardened.

"Yes. Let's go."

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Warlock ran down the hallway, hot on the trail of the necromancer. Their shoes echo throughout the mansion, and Warlock runs with a purpose, following his magic senses. "I think we're getting close!" He pushed doors open, and they rushed through hallways with great speed.

He rounded a corner, and Warlock's face fell. His pace stopped suddenly, and he ran backwards. "WE GOT A TANK!" he shouted, and started to run back down the hallway. A monstrous zombie, at least ten feet tall, lumbered after him. The monster howled, with a deep voice that seemed to fill the whole house. The monster stopped its pace, and the trio were allowed a better look at it. Its arms were covered with open sores, and its grossly disoportionate arms hung loosely at its side. Warlock paused, and looked back at it. A bead of sweat fell from his brow. "Uh...hehe. Any ideas?" The monster bellowed, and continued its charge!

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"Holy smokes! That's a big zombie!"

Instinctively, CT's aura flare and he flew backwards a few feet, before surprise was replaced with resolve. Ethereal fire swirled around him, before concentrating in his hands. After a few moments, it mostly solidified. Cobalt Templar was now holding a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun. Using both hands to steady his aim, he pulled both "triggers", and a huge burst of "shotgun pellets" made of holy fire roared outwards, heading for center mass on the large zombie.

"This is my boomstick! That's right, buddy! Eat magical fire!"

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The pellets struck the zombie's chest, and it shrieked in agony. Warlock raised his hand up for an intense bro-fist, and grinned broadly. "Nice one, Templar!" His face quickly fell when he saw the zombie was not harmed in any way. It staggered backwards with the force of the assault, but did nothing to phase it.

He turned to Nick, his heart practically pounding out of his chest. "Uh, Nick! Would you do that...thing." He made a frantic attempt to gesture slashing claws. "The thing you did to the other zombie?"

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"Let's give it a whirl!" Nick reached out and grabbed a sense of the energy that gave the monstrous thing life. Unlike with the revenant, this energy wasn't a maelstrom, swirling through and driving it with unnatural fury; it was a monolith, lending the zombie strength and fortitude. Every so often, the nerves of the flesh would dance around it, drawing power and movement. But Nick could feel that the monolith was built on uneasy soil, and lashed out at the base.

"Let's just see if this thing crumbles..."

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The zombie crumbled, and fell to the ground, its power effectively yanked from it. The floor boards creaked, and threatened to give way beneath the giant's weight. Warlock cautiously approached it, then knelt down to examine it.

"What the hell?" he said, pointing out a huge gash. The undead appeared to have parts stitched together from other corpses- its skin color was inconsistent, and its back was a road map of stitches. "Looks like he's using some science, too. This is disturbing." He stood up, and adjusted his robes. "What do you two recommend we do next?"

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When his shots failed to do anything, Cobalt Templar grit his teeth in annoyance.

"Dang thing is tough."

When Nick used his necromancy to permanently subdue the undead creature, CT sighed in relief and let his "boomstick" vanish. He frowned as he considered the situation.

"Man, I feel like I'm just tagging along. Also, necromancy plus "science"? That sounds like a nasty combination. I say we find this guy and hogtie him. We take away his toys, he shouldn't be as dangerous, right?"

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"Probably, but..." Nick studied the assembled monstrosity, taking note of the stitching, the make-up of the parts, and any trace of residual power. "Well, necromancy takes many forms. Some are keen to just work in the flesh -- you call up a zombie, seems like an all-purpose solution. Others work on souls, figuring out how to bind them, turn them into puppets, stick them in new bodies. Still others -- like myself -- learn to study the powers of ghosts and come to emulate them in time. Just saying, even if we take this guy's toybox away, he still may have a few tricks up his sleeve."

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Warlock nodded sagely. "It's worse now that he's using multiple studies. I guess he thinks himself an artist, too." He shuddered in disgust at the horrible creature's form. "But the sooner we find this freak, the better." He walked a little further down the hallway- the three were now at the far end of the house. The walls were delapidated and yellowing with age, and the smell of decaying corpse and musky house was overpowering. "Ah, Christ. Let's go."

Warlock walked to the kitchen area, where plates of food were stacked high. "Oh, great, he's a slob in addition to a monster. Wait- what the hell?" He peered out the kitchen window. "There's someone out there!"

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Cobalt Templar contemplated Nick's words for a bit.

"Okay then. We assume he's in top form until we take him down. Seems smart. You think this guy's exclusively a, uh, "flesh-worker"? Or that he might have a few varied tricks to pull on? Like what you do. Which, I gotta say, while a touch creepy, is leagues better than zombies."

He wrinkled his nose at the mess.

"I hope messes don't give him power or-"

He stopped at Warlock's exclamation and dashed over to the window, attempting to see out as well.

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Nick looked around the filthy kitchen and instantly felt a desire to run the sink. "This is probably some sort of analytical study for him," he said. "Decay in miniature. Could be using it to unlock some sort of spell that allows him to channel the effects -- 'as above, so below.'" He turned to Cobalt Templar. "Yeah, he could probably have some other tricks up his sleeve -- especially given the kind of study that's going on here. Personally, I hate zombies -- well, save for Dead Head. Can't stand binders, whether they work in flesh or spirit."

Nick turned to the window at Warlock's word, trying to get a glimpse at who was outside. "Is that our necromancer?"

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