Run pays no mind to the appraising eye of the shopkeeper. At this point she's so used to being stared at, ogled, browbeat, shushed, finger-wagged, or evil-eyed by the suspicious and superstitious residents of the town that she's finding herself becoming a bit inured to it all. Still, she takes out her abacus for a bit of comfort and motors through equations in her head and hands, the beads making a soothing rhythmic clacking as she does so.
The way in which the woman has crafted her magic is an enigma to the elf; it is clearly not science, but neither is it of the traditional ars arcana, and Runyon cannot resist a mystery.
"Madame. Good day. I was hoping to find, erm, I'm not sure how to phrase it to you as you seem not to employ the classical magical techniques nor the new school of alchemical principles. I fear our argots may be mismatched. Hmm...I need a spell to speed up people; to make them swifter in dodging and striking and moving, all. Barring that, a simple cleric's wand, something with many healing charges, that would not go amiss, or similar potions. I -- and my friend here -- we're ghost-hunting, you see, and will need things to aid us against the ethereal and astral. And if I may ask...ah...how...is it you do your...magic? Exactly? I am a student of all the magical arts, though alchemy is my chosen path for expressing my own talents and I am fascinated by what you do here. Are you able to explain it? Or is it like those with magical patrons, witches for whom the magic simply comes and they seek not to question it?"
Tanner finds a breastplate that seems effective and decorative. He feels a little more confidence that this Dwarven craftswoman knows what she is doing so that even the elegant breastplates are extremely effective.
He makes his way to the weapon racks. Spears, clubs, and morningstars all seem effective but lack a certain grace. Looking over and seeing Aydan displaying his sword, Tanner tries the heft and balance of a few swords and they all feel wrong. It is then that he sees the delicate wire hilt basket of a slim rapier. He had some epee work in his academy days but its was never something he took seriously. But as he drew the blade from its subtle leather scabbard, it just felt right. This was the sword of someone who faced adventure with a grin and a wink, something the ladies could appreciate.
He makes his way back the front of the workshop, and displays his choices, "What do you think? Quite the upgrade from this old leather and a walking stick."
'Aye Tanner! It'll serve you well! Especially with the work we have to do,' Aydan smiles and pats the man on the shoulder. 'It'll be nice to have another sword at my side, dangerous times these.'
Azuk'ai's mother walks up to him with an elven grace and places her hand comfortingly on his cheek. He closes his eyes, hungry for the rare show of affection from his mother, who had treated him as a burden and a curse for most of his life and only occasionally shown him the love she felt for him. "My son..." She begins to speak to him again, this time in Common. Suddenly, Azuk'ai's mind roils with memories. His head swims as he recalls his mother, Professor Lorrimor, and the events of the last few days. He gasps as he comes to a realization: this is not his mother. His eyes snap open to see a horrifying sight. Under the guise of his mother, his own mother, is a gaunt, slight man. The magic seems so clear now. As the illusion fades from his eyes, the man himself becomes translucent and flickers. Azuk'ai recognizes the figure for what it is: a ghost.
Jorfa collect's Tanner's money with ease. She meticulously counts it out, making him wait until she has fully counted all 670 gold pieces. It doesn't take remarkably long, surprisingly, but it is quite thorough. She even sniffs a piece of gold at one point, apparently satisfied with the smell. "I'll work the breastplate with an inscription, if ye want. No extra charge. Not enough room on the rapier." She then turns to Aydan to respond to his question about silver weapons. "Sure, I can do it for ye. I can do a dip for ye. It's cheaper, but it's not as good as a full mithril reforging. That'd be 'bout 4000 gold pieces for a greatsword. The dip doesn't hold quite the same sharpness, but it's only 180 gold. Your choice. I can get the dip done in an hour or two, throw the inscription with it."
Jominda appears very concerned with Runyon's question, and is right back to being suspicious. "I make the potions the way my mother taught me and her mother taught her. I have faith in what I was taught. There's something in the herbs that neither the sorcerers nor the priests can understand. It's older than either of them, more primal, more connected with nature. I don't question it. I simply thank Gozreh for his gifts." She seems quite defensive about her craft.
As the shock passes through him Azuk'ai's lips curl back in a sneer and he growls at the ghost. he shouts at it and steps back from it, reaching for an arrow designed to harm one of it's nature.
Brandishing the ghost bane arrow like a shiv before him Azuk'ai tries to keep it from touching him by waving the arrow around. "Who are you? What do you want?" he barks at it.
"Really?! How fascinating! Yet another rural hedge-wizard sort convinced they've divined an entirely new arcane path out of thin air for themselves. Right here in front of me. A delight!" It does not occur to Run for even a second that she has just been earth-shatteringly rude to the shop owner, and indeed it is probably only her clear obliviousness that keeps her from getting booted out the door by the poor woman. The elf, still unaware she's upset anybody, sets about studying the tinctures and mixtures and potions with great eagerness, always interested in how people go about creating magic and magical items or mixtures...
Melk spends the rest of the afternoon first going past the temple of Pharasma, to procure two potions of cure light wounds. And then just in what passes for a town square in Ravengro. He tries to make a little conversation, but the townsfolk generally avoid him; which he's not entirely unaccustomed to - so he doesn't really think much of it.
Its illusion broken, the ghostly figure drops its visage entirely. Gone are the delicate features and gentle voice of Azuk'ai's half-elf mother, replaced by a raspy voice and translucent countenance of the undead. An older man with stark features in life, his face looks weathered and cracked in death. He sneers at Azuk'ai while floating backwards. "You think your little toy is going to save you? I have a plan for you, even if you are just a deviant half-breed. Your people are little more than animals, but even animals have their purposes." His accent is a Taldan, with an air of arrogance and 'refinement'.
"Really?" Azuk'ai quibs back at the ghost, growing bolder as he sees it retreat from his weapon. "Mind letting me in on those plans?" he smirks and pulls his bow, noking the arrow and drawing a bead on the ghost. "Or do I even want to know?" he finishes and lets fly.
The arrow sails through the ghostly figure, blue energy sparking out and burning a trail through translucent 'flesh'. He hisses in pain, an unearthly moan that sends chills into those that can hear it. "I assure you that you'll know, mongrel."
He makes a pulling motion with his hands, and Azuk'ai suddenly feels a tightening feeling envelop him. Pressure comes in from all sides. He can hardly breathe as the ghostly force tightens and tightens. The figure floats towards him, arrogant as ever as he maintains his hold of Azuk'ai with an outstretched hand. "As I said three nights past: you will serve Tar-Baphon, whether you will it or not."
'Crap!' Azuk'ai struggles for breath, 'I should 'ave run.'
"So, uhn.. who are you.. again? And, uhn.. why should I give a shit?" Azuk'ai spits between clenched teeth as he struggles agains the grip.
Tensing every muscle in his body Azuk'ai breaks free with a loud roar, seeming to shatter the ghosts force grip, sending transparent shards scattering through the store shelf. Touching the ground lightly as he slumps down from the exertion Azuk'ai looks up at the ghost and spits at it. "F*%& you!" he snarls and springs up, sprinting for the door.
Done with subtleties, the ghostly spirit lunges forward at Azuk'ai with a raspy shout. "Mongrel! SIT! STAY!" As Azuk'ai rushes towards the door, the ghost flies through the counters and appears next to him. He turns, reaching for the arrows to try to stay alive long enough to alert the others. It isn't far from the general store to the other shops, and it's a quiet day. He doesn't have a chance before the ghost is upon him, plunging a hand into his chest. The feeling is one of horrible cold and fire, both pain and emptiness in equal parts. The ghost's face, stretched and thin like ancient paper, explodes into a black smoke. It envelops him completely, pouring into his mouth and nose and eyes until it is all that he knows. There is a strange sensation of being pushed aside, but the smoke soon passes and the ghost is nowhere to be seen or heard.
Azuk'ai turns to check behind him, or at least tries to. His head does not move. His body is not cooperating with his commands. Unlike a moment ago when the ghost seized him, or a few nights ago when he was magically paralyzed, he has no ability whatsoever. It is like he is just watching someone else's memories. Suddenly, without any command from his own mind, Azuk'ai starts to move jerkily around the room. He flexes his fingers and stretches his body, all while having no control. A voice comes from his mind, calling out to the half-orc. 'Don't fret, mongrel. You'll have full use of your body soon enough. I simply have some plans for you first. Like a horse, you are now a means of conveyance.' The voice begins to laugh, a haunting sounds that echoes through Azuk'ai's consciousness.
Walking around the shop jerkily Azuk'ai wears a contemptious frown on his face as he flexes his fingers and shakes his hands, stretching his body he casts his eyes about as if looking for something.
Try as he might Azuk'ai can only watch helplessly as the ghost familiarizes itself with his body, with growing horror he realizes he's helpless. Snarling in his minds eye he tries to locate the invasive presence. 'Oi! You! Show yourself you bloody coward! Who are you? What are you doing with me?'
Run's head snaps up from her writing, and she walks over to the shopkeeper. "My lady! Your work here is indeed marvelous, I was able to reverse-engineer enough of your processes to inform my own work, I owe you a debt of gratitude, for certain. If I could procure a half-dozen of your healing potions, that would be wonderful! Thank you so much." The elf smiles warmly, as an intellectual achievement -- no matter how small -- always leads her to do.
Melk's afternoon was appropriately bland - just what he needed to restore his sense of normality with the world. A little before sunset he remembered that holy water was effective against the forces in the Harrowstone prison; so he decided to take some initiative and buy two flasks of holy water before fetching the last potions and returning to meet up with the others at Kendra's place.
With their shopping complete (and allowing one more opportunity for Runyon to treat Jominda like a superstitious backwoods fool), the group reconvenes near the town hall soon before sunset. Melk picked up the remainder of his order from Jominda, while Jorfa finished Aydan and Tanner's orders with time to spare. The four of them saw each other several times during the day as they lingered around Ravengro, though Azuk'ai was nowhere to be seen until he arrived at the town hall. Sheriff Caeller arrives to meet them, his wide-brimmed hat and thick overcoat warding away the cool temperatures. The mist of the morning still lingers in parts, soon to be added to when the sun disappears. Caeller looks them up and down with his usual intensely scrutinizing glare. "I hope you got what you needed. The meeting is soon, and I need you to be ready to depart to Harrowstone soon after. The people are worried and frightened, and it's going to be up to us to convince them that we know what we're doing." He lets a small bitter smile tug on his mouth. "I hope one of you is a better liar than I am..."
When it is done, Feramin taunts him in his head as he cleanses the blood of Azuk'ai's hands and returns to town. 'Mongrel, is it clear now? This town will drown in blood by the time I am done with you. As I said, even atavistic throwbacks such as yourself can serve.'
Striding up with his hood up and his shoulders bunched up Azuk'ai's eyes gleam in the half-light of even-fall. Eyeing each of his friends he gives a small nod in greeting to each. Meeting Sheriff Caellar's stare with one of his own he sneers at his comments, "Their your people, surely you can sway them." he complains to the Sheriff. "You know as we'll as we do how they view some of us." he says, indicating Ayden.
Shaking his head he sighs in resignation, "Let's get this over with." he says gruffly, indicating he's ready to follow Sheriff Caellar to the meeting.
"What's wrong Azuk'ai?" Melk's warm face has a hint of worry about it as he addresses the half-elf. "Something happen in town?" Not wanting to be reprimanded for his forwardness he adds mostly to himself as justification, "Just curious, different, that's all."
Aydan grimaces as Akuz'ai indicates him.
'Right you are my friend, but I'd be willing to try again to get the people around to our side. That can only make it easier to handle the ghosts in that gods forsaken place. And I do intend to handle them.'
Run raises an eyebrow at Melk's question. She looks from him to Azuk'ai and back, then shrugs. "He seems as terse as ever, I guess, but I don't know I'm a qualified judge of these sorts of things." She pulls the brim of her hat down a bit, and, suddenly nervous, begins fiddling noisesomely with a purposeless leather strap and buckle on her greatcoat.
Feeling a little more confident in his new armor and with a real weapon at his side, Tanner feels well more prepared to face the prison today than he did yesterday. Imagining the others sharing this feeling, he is a bit surprised at Azuk'ai's outburst.
Must be nerves...Do you feel nervous? Do you want to lash out at the Sheriff? The one man in this forsaken town who doesn't believe you to be a murderer....Well no, I feel great..good sleep, good food. But Azuk'ai wasn't accused of murder... And yet he is the one uptight?.... He should have a nip for the nerves, I should too... Works for me....
Unconsciously, Tanner finds the flask already in his hand. He rubs his thumb over the surface and the dent. He takes a quick sip and presses the silver flask into Azuk'ai's hand, "Here, take a sip. It will calm those nerves."
He really does look like he needs it... You have always been a fairly good judge of people. How does he to you?.... What? What does that even mean? ....[sigh]....
Tanner flashes his friendly smile and lightly cuffs Azuk'ai's shoulder as he presses the silver flask into Azuk'ai's hand, "Here, take a sip. It will calm those nerves."
Taken aback by his friends questioning he stares sullenly at them as they berate him with questions. Accepting Tanner's flask he takes a swig, coughing as the liquid buns down his throat.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand he hands back the flask and shrugs. "I'm fine." he shrugs, "It's just the stares I'm getting when I walk through here, it's grating my nerves. Like I'm the bad guy." he cusses, "Come, let's go." he says, hoping to finish the questions.
Caller regards Azuk'ai with cool eyes, sizing him up like a suspect. "All right. Let's get into the town hall. No point in waiting." He leads the way into hall, which is growing quite full. It seems that most of the town is out, like it was after Kilder's murder, and the tension level is even higher. The sun is just beginning to set to the west, the orange glow lighting the early mist like a pool of fire clinging to the ground. Many of the people sit in benches, but the hall was not designed for such numbers. Most of the people are standing around as Caeller leads them in to stand in the northeastern corner.
Councilman Gibs Hephenus begins to speak first. "People of Ravengro, please listen! I know that there are many rumors floating around, but let me assure you! We have things well in hand!"
A voice floats up from the crowd. "He's going to kill us all one by one! What are you doing to protect us?" There are many shouts of agreement and concern coming from all corners. The village is ready to tear itself apart with fear.
Desperately, Councilman Hephenus looks around. The crowd is growing unruly and afraid, and most of it is directed towards him. "I'll turn the table over to the new deputies of Sheriff Caeller, who have been working steadily at my command to end this threat to you!" He points, almost in a hurling fashion, at them in the corner. The entire crowd looks to them for answers that they might not have.
Tanner takes back the flask and tucks it away. He still doesn't look right. Is he sick or..or worse...
As they approach the Sheriff's, "Aydan. Can you help me with a strap on this armor, its digging in on me? Nothing major...we'll catch up." And he sets to trying to adjust a strap over his shoulder.
With Aydan behind him, and the others gong ahead, Tanner whispers over his shoulder, "Thanks Aydan, but I need to talk to you. Something is up with Azuk'ai. You have known him longer, but something is off. He was not this uptight when we came into town. I could caulk it up to nerves but it is not fear. He seemed eager to continue...it seems he is angry for some reason. Keep an eye on him...we don't want an outburst in front of the townsfolk."
Following the group in Azuk'ai's eyes move from face to face with a small smile on his lips, a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Vary as always he scrutinizes every frown or flicker of eye he meets on his way through the crowd. Reaching the back he moves to the back of the group and, folding his arms, leans to the wall and watches with a half-smile on his lips.
Tanner looks at the others, no one seeming ready to step up. Where was that Duron fellow? He seemed to have a grasp of what was going on here. But two days in jail does not make one a likely voice of reason. But am I? I woke up in a dead girl's bed... You can see they are afraid. They need someone to believe in. Someone brave enough to face what they fear... We are talking about me again aren't we? Well, here goes. I faced angry mobs before for the Professor, is this any different?
Making one last check with the others, Tanner takes a quick sip front the flask , runs his hand through his hair and steps forward.
"People of Ravengro, we are new to this town, yes we are strangers to you. And as such, we could easily shake the dust of this town from our feet and get out of town.....<murmur, murmur>...But that is not the path we have chosen. We were strangers not only to you but each other, but we have bonded together on this one issue...We will stop this murderer....<murmur, murmur>...His power is tied to the old prison. We went in there yesterday...it is a powerful place, and we fought...oh yes! For you and this town we fought! We plumbed its depths and emerged cut, battered, but not defeated! We did not find what we needed to stop the attacks...it is a big ruin. But we learned much...We learned how the power works...how to defeat it...and we now know where within the walls it hides...<hopeful murmur, hopeful murmur>...Will it be easy? No. The foe is elusive and deadly...I wish I could just go 'Show me the Evil of this World'..but..but...It is not that easy, so we become hunters. But in this hunt, we are determined, prepared, and willing to risk all to see that not another villager is hurt! That prison burned but it was not emptied...we will see it transformed back into a pile a rocks from which no spirit will ever stir to bother this town again!"
Tanner ends on a high note and steps back to his companions appearing a little woozy.
Aydan looks at Tanner with a suspicious expression.
'Off, huh?' Aydan thinks back to Akuz'ai's behaviour after the rendezvous. 'I guess he was a bit short of temper. I'll keep an eye on him, but he could just be being affected by the stress.' Finishing Tanner's armor, he nods to the Taldan man, and moves to join the others with Sheriff Caeller.
'My companion has the heart of the matter, we're here to help, and we're here to stay until we can end this terrible ordeal. This very night we plan to put a halt to the nightly horrors that stalk you, the good folk of Ravenegro. We ask only for your continued patience and courage, though you have shown so much already.'
Runyon sits off to the side, the brim of her oversized hat pulled low, fiddling with her abacus.
Melk stares blankly - if pleasant-faced - at the assembly. Then nervously tries to blend into the background. Failing that, as the attention is drawn to them by the Councilman, he freezes in a rictus of stagefright. He barely manages an encouraging nod when Tanner finishes his speech.
There is a murmur of hope and agreement when Tanner speaks. Obviously they seem to appreciate what he says, and seem to be heartened by his words. Councilman Hephenus claps a few times, trying to retain control of the crowd. "See? Everything is under control. Ravengro will soon be as quiet as soon as they put it to rest. I predict that we will all--"
Hephenus is suddenly interrupted, his words cut short by the sharp blade that splits his throat in two. Unseen during Tanner and Aydan's speeches, Azuk'ai apparently made his way to the stage and positioned himself behind the Councilman. With a single smooth and practiced stroke, Azuk'ai shockingly murders the Councilman. As he falls to the stage, blood pouring from his neck, Azuk'ai raises the dagger. "Come forth, my servants! Feast on my gift of blood and flesh!"
The crowd instantly erupts in a panic. People are pushing and shoving, trying to get to the exit. Some people charge the stage, trying to take Azuk'ai down in a mob action. There is a shout from the back. In the din and chaos, it is still recognizeable as the crabby voice of Father Grimburrow. "Wait, he is possessed! A dark spirit has taken hold of him!" Suddenly, with a crash interrupting Grimburrow, Azuk'ai's (or his possessor's) 'servants' burst into the town hall. The wooden doors slam open as dozens of the rotting undead stream in. As any citizen of Ravengro, the dead outnumber the living. He must have raised most of the Restlands at once. The living citizens rush away from the zombies lurching into the room, with no place to go. Several of them start to slam on the closed and shuttered windows, trying to burst them open to escape. Pure pandemonium reigns in the meeting hall, with Azuk'ai's malicious laugh echoing above it all.
Worst of all, the most horrifying part of this sudden terrible horror, is that Professor Petros Lorrimor's rotted corpse is first through the door. His head is mangled almost beyond recognition as he jerkily pushes in, but it is clearly him. The sick malice of whoever is possessing Azuk'ai knows no bounds.
Aydan
Azuk'ai
Melk
Tanner
Runyon
Zombies
Laughing evilly Azuk'ai appears to be enjoying himself immensely as he views the scene he created. "There will be no rest!" he snarls, his voice changing, deepening and adopting a heavy taldain accent. "You will all die! You will all die and rise again to serve, serve Tar-Baphon, whether you will it or not!"
Licking the blood of his dagger as he steps to the next councilman, his intent is clear on his sneering face and brandished dagger.
Round 1, Initiative 21
'Noo!' gasps in shock as the meeting dissolves into panic and chaos.
'Try and bar the doors and calm down the citizenry, we can't let the undead inside.'
He then turns towards the stage as Akuz'ai stabs another councillor, his face clouds with rage as he rushes up, vaults onto the stage and dives over to tackle Akuz'ai.
CMB, Provokes AoO
He grabs the man at the shoulders with a vice like grip, roaring 'Break out of it! Fight the possession damn you! FIGHT IT'!
Quick as a snake Azuk'ai slashes as Ayden's steps into his face.
Raking his dagger along the length of Ayden's arm, leaving a long red welt that slowly starts dripping blood, he looks surprised, or perhaps disgusted, at Ayden's touch.
Aydan grabs hold of the possessed Azuk'ai, who snarls at him after sliing his arm open with the dagger he killed Councilman Hephenus with. Councilwoman Shandra Faravan, a middle-aged woman whose lips always seemed pursed in disapproval, lays bleeding on the floor; the dagger wielded in Azuk'ai's hand nearly slashed her neck open, but she still lives. The other three Councilmen scramble back off the stage, trying to avoid the maniacal killer. The zombies lurch into the room, led by the walking corpse of their friend and mentor, who stares forward with unblinking eyes. A rotted tongue lolls out of his ruined mouth, while his jaw hangs on by merely a tendon.
Father Grimburrow, standing near the door, shouts a warning to them. He seems stern as usual, but with a hint of unusual desperation. Being torn apart by the very men and women that he interred must be an unsettling prospect. "I can undo the possession! Help me get to him!" He presses up against the rest of the citizens, who huddle in towards the back of the room to escape the horde of zombies.
Run is peripherally aware of Azuk'ai's treachery, the cause of which is shouted by Father Grimburrow and registers somewhere in her mind as making perfect sense. She is also aware of the injured council members, of her own jaw dropping in surprise. Of the townspeople panicking. All these things are facts, and are filed away in her vaultlike mind and promptly ignored, for there is a horror at the door that is too much for the Forlorn alchemist to bear. One of her only friends in this life, a great man and mentor, re-animated to come back and vex the village in which he did so much work, and attack his friends and family. She knew it wasn't him, and she also knew that such an abomination could. not. stand.
Run couldn't attack Azuk'ai, so she settled for the next best thing. Striding forward past the confused citizens she walks until she encounters a knot of people who won't budge. Unperturbed, she yanks a bomb out of its bandolier slot and aggressively tears out the bimetallic strip separating the volatile reagents. People around her look at the shivering flask in her hand and step back with gasps.
"...oh no..."
"...what is she...?"
"...what is that?!"
"...crazy elf! she's probably part of it!"
"...By the lady, one more crazed killer in the room!"
Run ignores them. She has a job to do now, and that helps grant her a modicum of calm. The ingredients mixed, she hurls the bomb directly at poor Petros' corpse. (it's not him it's not him it's not him it's not him it's not him) As the awkward missile spins towards its target the alchemist yells at the top of her lungs. "Let Grimburrow through! Damn you all! Let him through! Get out of the way of the shambling dead and let us finish them, let us finish them like THIS!" At that moment, the bomb impacts and detonates, the magically created flame curving around at Run's will to avoid hitting the one citizen who might have otherwise been burned. She orchestrates the flames like a master composer. She is an artist and fire is her paint.
All the zombies in range of her alchemy fry. Run grins maniacally and reaches for another bomb.
Seeing the attacks on Council members and then Aydan too is too much. There was something wrong with him...Damn, he possesed!
"Azk'ai, you are stronger than this! Get a grip and fight this!" Tanner's eyes flash blue in rare anger. He steps over the fallen citizen as he reaches out to grab Azuk'ai. But Azuk'ai stays just out of his reach.
Runyon's explosive bomb shatters on Petros's corpse and flows out of the door behind him. A pair of zombies fall to the ground, aflame in alchemical fire, but dozens more force their way into the door. Three of them make it far enough into the room to grab hold of the townspeople. The walking corpse of Petros grabs a middle-aged woman, who screams in terrible agony as he tears into her neck with his teeth. She drags him to the floor as she dies, blood streaming from her wound and running down his throat. The panic and terror is almost contagious as the townspeople scramble towards the back of the room.
Melk rushes to the cleric's aid, "Good Father, make for the back and help there; I will hold the unquiet dead back as long as I can."
Turning his body to face Ayden Azuk'ai weaves and bobs limply as Ayden holds onto his shoulder, catching his eye they both suddenly stop moving, locking stares.
"Release me." Azuk'ai states firmly and Ayden wordlessly follows his command, earning a self-satisfied smirk from Azuk'ai's lips.
With a number of their fellow townspeople fallen and being torn to shreds, very few of them seem likely to do anything but panic and try to escape. Sheriff Caeller makes his way shoulder to shoulder with Melk, a naked longsword in his hand. Tentatively, a few of his deputies fight their way to the front of the room to follow his lead. He swings his sword hard, taking off one of the zombie's heads. It falls to the ground twitching, dragging itself forward despite losing its head.
Aydan feels his mind invaded and compelled, and with a muffled groa he releases Akuz'ai. Shaking his head he growls angrily and lunges at the possessed man again, trying to remove his weapon at least if he can't grab the man.
Turning the blade as Ayden reaches for it Azuk'ai punches the dagger through his palm, twisting it with a snarl before pulling it back.
This town. thinks Run, This blasted town is getting to me. "Out of the way! Get OUT of the way! she yells with uncharacteristic rudeness as she shoulders past a panicked citizen. Once in the clear again she hurls another bomb at the Petros-zombie. "Witness the power, Grimburrow!" she yells to the crabby priest, wondering at her own impetuosity. "Witness the power of SCIENCE! Muahahaaa!" The bomb detonates as she says this last and her huge eyes blaze as she once again employs her most recent discovery and wills the flame to curve up and around Grimburrow and the frightened townsperson next to him. As an added touch, she even keeps her flames from burning the corpse of the Petros-thing's victim so they can have a more proper ritual for her body later.
Reaching past the scuffling Aydan, Tanner grabs hold on Azuk'ai's shoulder, just long enough for them to lock eyes. A brief contest of wills as Azuk'ai's eyes seem to flick between recognition and hatred.
"Throw this off friend! These acts are not you. And YOU! I am coming for you, there will be no where or no one you can hide.!" A flash of power sparks between Tanner's hand and Azuk'ai's shoulder.