Patrollogs
(Casey's ghost banishing)
[Sun Jan 14 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 27F(-2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing crescent moon.
Mist slowly slips from the coast up into the graveyard, swirling around the feet of those gathered. A moment later a hand thrusts up from the ground nearby, and then another. Soon a swarm of corpses are pulling themselves free from the dirt and lunging towards the group with vacant milky eyes.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Casey frowns a bit as the mist creeps in. Luckily enough, Casey had a couple bags of salt that she had brought along. She goes with the triple circle again, one small, one larger, one even larger than that. Pulling her book out of her purse, Casey sits atop a gravestone, noting the inscription. "Sorry, ah... Harold Salte," Casey says.
"... it's ah... gonna be a bit of time. I hope you're not in there, though," Casey says. "Because if you are, well... I'll probably have to shoot you when you claw your way out."
Casey flips to the first few pages, noting the corpses congregating at the edges of the circle. "Shoo. All of you can just go and shoo, please," Casey says, flicking her fingers as if to ward them away.
Casey drops something valuable and several of the zombies fall upon it, scrambling over each other for the precious item.
One of the zombies tears Casey's clothes.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Casey casts a wave from the middle of her salt circles. "Don't come closer, it's dangerous!"
One of the zombies tears Casey's clothes.
Caseys Ghost Banishing
(Casey's ghost banishing)
[Sun Jan 14 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 27F(-2C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing crescent moon.
Mist slowly slips from the coast up into the graveyard, swirling around the feet of those gathered. A moment later a hand thrusts up from the ground nearby, and then another. Soon a swarm of corpses are pulling themselves free from the dirt and lunging towards the group with vacant milky eyes.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Casey frowns a bit as the mist creeps in. Luckily enough, Casey had a couple bags of salt that she had brought along. She goes with the triple circle again, one small, one larger, one even larger than that. Pulling her book out of her purse, Casey sits atop a gravestone, noting the inscription. "Sorry, ah... Harold Salte," Casey says.
"... it's ah... gonna be a bit of time. I hope you're not in there, though," Casey says. "Because if you are, well... I'll probably have to shoot you when you claw your way out."
Casey flips to the first few pages, noting the corpses congregating at the edges of the circle. "Shoo. All of you can just go and shoo, please," Casey says, flicking her fingers as if to ward them away.
Casey drops something valuable and several of the zombies fall upon it, scrambling over each other for the precious item.
One of the zombies tears Casey's clothes.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Anyone not protected by a salt circle or wielding flame is driven down to the ground under the weight of the zombie attack.
Casey casts a wave from the middle of her salt circles. "Don't come closer, it's dangerous!"
One of the zombies tears Casey's clothes.