Patrollogs
Eloras Ghost Banishing 241209
The Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery becomes the unexpected theater of a ghostly showdown, with an eerie chill in the air as two spectral armies clash in an eternal battle. Amidst this chaos, Elora, accompanied by Emmelline and Illyana, takes swift action to banish these spirits. Draped in the latest fashion with a determination in her eyes, Elora directs her companions to safety, all while preparing a potent ritual behind a monument. The two spectral generals at the heart of the conflict unleash their powerful magics, shaking the graveyard to its core and cracking gravestones in half, as Elora and her companions weather the storm through a mix of arcane knowledge and quick wit.
Elora, utilizing a mixture of blood magic and ancient rituals, etches sigils onto the monument, invoking a spell to banish the spirits with a chilling curse, causing the spectral armies to falter. Emmelline contributes with her own magical workings, utilizing a tablet inscribed with runes and her blood to amplify the ritual's power, while Illyana uses her supernatural speed and fire magic to protect and assist the group. As the ritual reaches its climax, the ghostly soldiers begin dissipating like mist, retreating back into the earth from whence they came. The graveyard is left in an unsettling calm, the once-ferocious battle now just a memory. Elora's quick thinking, combined with the group's varied magical efforts, ensures the spectral armies are banished, leaving Arkwright Cemetery in peace once again.
(Elora's ghost banishing)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 32F(0C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
An eerie stillness settles over the graveyard, the fog thickening like an otherworldly veil. The ground trembles, and two ghostly armies surge forth, locked in a battle that defies time. One side, draped in ethereal armor, charges with spectral weapons, while the other hurls crackling bolts of elemental magic. The air is alight with haunting energy as the spirits, long dead, resume their eternal battle, heedless of the living who are caught in their spectral warpath.
Emmelline nods in understanding at Illyana's words. "Blood trouble though? How do you mean? And how are things with Ivy?," she asks conversationally.
Emmelline says "Oh this thing again. Well it's better than the weird hell one with the spiders at least."
Elora is dressed for the weather in the latest fashion from the newly opened Vogue and View. Elevant snow covered booties with a chunkie heel protect her feet from the cold grasses of the overground cemetery. Pappery gray winter gloves shield her hands. The rest of of outfit is largely obscured by the large, plush fur coat which covers her too completely to see what is hidden beneath it. Her hair is bright and colorful neon, clashing with the white tones of her outfit as she looks around the half swallowed stones being consumed by the graveyard. "Ah, this is a bad one. Its those armies." She is suddenly much more alert as she rushes toward a monument and takes shelter behind it. "Get to cover," Elora orders the others. "Or you will regret it." Her tone is lilting and her accent English. She is reaching into her coat for something.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
"Oh bugger." Illyana notes, hands on her hips as she watches the two armies charge for each other. "These guys. Nodding to Elora, Illyana places herself between Elora and the spirits, taking up a guard stance even as the other woman moves. "I like fighting those." she observes to Emmelline.
"Yeah yeah, we've seen it before," Emmelline says with a nod of agreement at Elora, as she too takes cover. "Here we go," she says, as she takes out a wooden tablet from her duffle bag. "One wonders why I keep doing these things. they're never pleasant cordial ghosts are they?," she says to no one in particular. As Illyana moves to protect Elora, she calls to the woman, "Might want to go for cover yourself mate."
Elora amid the eerie stillness and thickening fog which is wrapping around the graveyard like some otherworldy veil pulls free a ceremonial blade while a shockwave of power slams through the area, mangling gravestones. The monument she hid behind takes the brunt of the blast and the only sign of it troubling her is the way her neon hair whips in the cold wind.
"Sometimes pleasant," Elora lilts out to Illyana. "Lirael has that fae child that likes to play kissing games. But no. Most of these spirits are rather horrid. Best we take care of it while they're here. There are already too many ghost stories going around this town for my liking. Humans don't need to know about this sort of thing."
Illyana is quite literally inhumanly fast. She can also teleport around the area, so as the earth shakes, Illyana slips through a path, appearing once more between Elora and the spectral armies, though firmly footed before the monument. "I'm pretty confident," Illyana tells Emmelline that I can weather the brunt of all of this better than both of you.""
"I don't like the ghost child." Illyana calls over a shoulder to Elora, watching her as she prepares the banishment. "The kissing games and playing gay chicken is great, but the things it wants you to feel sucks."
Spectral war drums pound as cavalry specters sweep in from the flank, met by a line of phantom nature mages who attempt to pull at the soil beneath their feet. The clash shakes the ground, causing cracks to appear underfoot and sending the living stumbling as the earth heaves.
"All right mate, as you wish," Emmelline says with a nod, as she takes out a vial of what appears to be blood. She begins dripping the blood on various parts of the tablet, which has been carved with symbols shapes and runes. She makes sure to cover certain ones, but not others. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might thing she's doing a weird painting of sorts but with a pipette, rather than a paint brush. 'No, I don't like that one either," she agrees with Illyana. "Much rather this insanity.""
Elora begins to use her blade to scratch into the smooth stone of the monument, carving a circle in it. "They sometimes do things which disrupt the ground," Elora says, leaving behind small, near invisible lines on the stone as her the rune covered ceremonial blade she is using scars the stone near imperceptibly. "I'll damage this later so that no one can see the sigils."
Elora puts a hand on the monument as the ground shakes in order to steady herself.
"Damage the ground just like that." Illyana grins, taking a step to the side as a crevass opens where she was stood moments before. "What I dislike about these is they don't like to let us fight them propperly. We just have to mostly watch on." Observing Emmelline's craft, the bohemian notes the tablet and the blood, filing it away for later. "It is harder, but the secrets part. I hate telling secrets unless I'm asked nicely."
Elora in her sigil work is forming a circle. On the outer edge of the circle sharp lines spill out, forming thorn-like protrusions which give the circle a sharper and more sinister quality. The lines are knife-thin, likely missed by someone without truly keen senses. Her blade scrapes along the stone material. "You can fight," Elora says to Illyana as she begins filling in the upper left section of the circle with runic symbols which someone familiar with the occult and ritualism might understand to be a targeting mechanism to direct the attention of something toward the battling armies. "There are so many of them after all." She pokes her head around the monument.
"I just hate how loud it all is," Elora complains. "The clamor of them."
Elora ducks her head back behind the monument, hiding herself.
"What?," Emmelline asks of Illyana, noticing her gaze. "I mean it's better than the dirt thing that some do. I mean this way, I don't have to worry about the wind blowing everything away or whatever. I mean it took an age to get this," she says tap tapping the tablet, "had to get it from an arcanist elsewhere. But you know..." she shrugs.
As the ground quakes with the stomp of spectral soldiers, a coven of phantom witches weaves spells that entangle the giants in thorny vines. The living are ensnared as well, ghostly vines tearing through the earth to wrap around their limbs, attempting to drag them down.
"On relationships though," Illyana notes to Elora, "You and Lily were very sweet together. It's one of the most lovely things I've seen since coming to this shitty town." Stepping back to avoid one thangle of vines, she steps into the path of another. Her aura flares and the plants flame, wither and turn to ash before Illyana answers Emmelline. "I've not seen that style of arcana before. It's interesting and new. I'm also not sure how I feel about seeing you doing anything supernatural."
Elora as spectrals vines emerge has a glare on her face and a fast reaction, her blade slamming down toward the vines. She had mentioned from the start that these things could sometimes disrupt the ground. As ghostly vines tear up the earth, she seems to have been precious and vindicated. More then that though, she seems entirely ready for the vines. As they race for her, her own blade is racing back for them. The rune covered thing in her hand flahses through spectral vines near her, causing them to disrupt into misty phasntasmal echoes of their formrer solidity which soon fade.
Likely more casual than needs be, Illyana generates fire in her palm, shooting it out like a flame thrower to destroy any and all evidence of active spiritual plant life-- And the existing plant life-- And blackening the tombstones around her.
"I don't know," Emmelline says with a shrug to Illyana. "It's better than as I said, putting patterns in the dirt, or doing what Elora is doing there, making their own. I wouldn't be able to remember it all," she says as she continues her work. "And yeah, I suppose it is weird for you. You've never seen me doing anything supernatural thus far."
Elora at Illyana's words glances toward Emmelline and the tablet trying to understand what it is.
"I like hers more." Illyana tells Emmelline, regarding Elora's circle. "It's beautiful in its way. It has flare and style."
A ghostly battlemage hurls a ball of fire, deflected mid-air by a phantom knight's shield, causing an explosion that sends searing heat and blinding light across the battlefield.
Elora moves to another section of the circle and begins scoring it with her knife, adding a smaller circle to the bottom right quadrant, with arching lines which spiral out to other sections. "It is not so complicated if you understand what you are doing. For one thing, you need to be able to feed life force into the circle. That is what I'm doing now. Across many rituals you find common elements like the need to direct and target it or the requirement of fueling it. Really the -" She cuts off as the shockwave of heat blasts through and around them, gritting her teeth against it.
Elora has a choker which glows.
Illyana strangely doesn't seem all that bothered by the heat-- Or the light. Maybe not, seeing as she appears to be enjoying herself as she finishes torching the landscape around her. Beginning to glow with incandescence, most of the detritus is deflected, that which isn't healing with demonic recovery.
"Oh yeah for sure," Emmelline agrees with a nod to Illyana. Seeing Elora's gaze, she explains, "This tablet has all the symbols and runes for different rituals. I have a couple copies, since once you use it, they rather need to go for a wash," she says laughing. "And well," she says, "I make sure the blood touches the parts I need it to, not other parts. It takes some doing, drip blood on the wrong part, and the ritual goes all kinds of wonky. Then I sort of use it like a magical focus," she goes on, "And off goes the ritual."
Between the chill of many spirits in the area adding a paranormal cool and her own arcana, reaching out to a distant Source of cold, the oppressive heat that grips the area is cracked, at least around Elora herself. She focuses back on her carving. Elora gets back to her carving into the tombstone.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
Elora begins to speak. Her voice, a low hiss. As she speaks, she raises her blade, not to the stone, but to her own palm. "Spirites frigoris, audite vocem meam. Tenebris vetustis vinculis gelidis alligate. Umbrae malevolae, a me discedite. Glacies aeternam quietem imponat super vos. Silvhiberna vestras animas devoret. Ex hoc loco expellite et numquam redeatis! Per vim glaciei, per noctem sine fine, evanescite!" Her blade licks against her flesh coaxing forth blood which she smears onto the circle. In answer, the lines she has drawn begin to blaze with a wintery light that spirals out from the small circle she had drawn moments ago.
Elora hisses in pain from her shelter behind the tombstone, pulling her hand back and away, she cradles it, as her hair is whipped about. "It feels too impersonal to me to just use something already created. Who taught you to do it that way? I am student of Corina Sidthe whose is student of Morianna Sedai."
Well, there's that shockwave again. Illyana could weather it, but Elora has protection with the monument, and Emmelline is doing her own thing. So Illyana cheets again, avoiding it with another teleportation. She paths again, moving behind the shockwave about twenty feet and casually ambling back to where she was. "See." Illyana points out, nothing Elora's circle. "Pretty, even if the invocation uses multiple terms that reference darkness and winter. Mostly darkness-- And that I know from too many comic books."
'I read it," Emmelline simply replies to Elora. "I don't need it to be personal. I'm already giving my blood to it. I just need it to do what it needs to do," she explains, and as time passes, the tablet begins to emit a faint glow. Weak at first, and rather intermittent, but over time, ot grows stronger."
"Think you I like them," Elora asks Illyana. "I do not try to banish them to warm comfort on some beach. Let them suffer. Let them no know peace, since they wish to continue this eternal war of theirs."
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
Elora scoffs at Emmelline's answer, rolling her eyes, as she focuses back on her circle, drawing new lines, her blade now leaving behind that glow with each motion against the stone. "You are communicating when you do a ritual. It is inherently personal whether you wish it to be or not."
"It would likely fuck with them more if you did banish them to a beach, but I love the vindictiveness against them. It's just different to-- Hang on." pathing once more to avoid the latest shockwave, Illyana throws a couple of fireballs as she returns. "Anyway, I don't dislike it. It shows Korina's influence. I love it, in fact. It's got its own twist."
"We all have our own ways," Emmelline simply replies to Elora, not seeming to take the least bit offense. And like or not, her method seems to be working, as the tablet's glow is quite strong now, having the desired effect on the spirits.
Elora is part of arcane society enough so to have some disdain for the self-taught in any matter touching about arcana.
A sudden gust of wind sweeps through the graveyard, scattering the remnants of battle - ashes, shattered stones, and burned foliage - until all that's left is an unsettling calm. The ghostly combatants begin to falter, their spectral forms flickering like dying embers. One by one, they retreat into the earth, their energy spent, until the graveyard is once again quiet.
Elora, utilizing a mixture of blood magic and ancient rituals, etches sigils onto the monument, invoking a spell to banish the spirits with a chilling curse, causing the spectral armies to falter. Emmelline contributes with her own magical workings, utilizing a tablet inscribed with runes and her blood to amplify the ritual's power, while Illyana uses her supernatural speed and fire magic to protect and assist the group. As the ritual reaches its climax, the ghostly soldiers begin dissipating like mist, retreating back into the earth from whence they came. The graveyard is left in an unsettling calm, the once-ferocious battle now just a memory. Elora's quick thinking, combined with the group's varied magical efforts, ensures the spectral armies are banished, leaving Arkwright Cemetery in peace once again.
(Elora's ghost banishing)
[Sun Dec 8 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is afternoon, about 32F(0C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
An eerie stillness settles over the graveyard, the fog thickening like an otherworldly veil. The ground trembles, and two ghostly armies surge forth, locked in a battle that defies time. One side, draped in ethereal armor, charges with spectral weapons, while the other hurls crackling bolts of elemental magic. The air is alight with haunting energy as the spirits, long dead, resume their eternal battle, heedless of the living who are caught in their spectral warpath.
Emmelline nods in understanding at Illyana's words. "Blood trouble though? How do you mean? And how are things with Ivy?," she asks conversationally.
Emmelline says "Oh this thing again. Well it's better than the weird hell one with the spiders at least."
Elora is dressed for the weather in the latest fashion from the newly opened Vogue and View. Elevant snow covered booties with a chunkie heel protect her feet from the cold grasses of the overground cemetery. Pappery gray winter gloves shield her hands. The rest of of outfit is largely obscured by the large, plush fur coat which covers her too completely to see what is hidden beneath it. Her hair is bright and colorful neon, clashing with the white tones of her outfit as she looks around the half swallowed stones being consumed by the graveyard. "Ah, this is a bad one. Its those armies." She is suddenly much more alert as she rushes toward a monument and takes shelter behind it. "Get to cover," Elora orders the others. "Or you will regret it." Her tone is lilting and her accent English. She is reaching into her coat for something.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
"Oh bugger." Illyana notes, hands on her hips as she watches the two armies charge for each other. "These guys. Nodding to Elora, Illyana places herself between Elora and the spirits, taking up a guard stance even as the other woman moves. "I like fighting those." she observes to Emmelline.
"Yeah yeah, we've seen it before," Emmelline says with a nod of agreement at Elora, as she too takes cover. "Here we go," she says, as she takes out a wooden tablet from her duffle bag. "One wonders why I keep doing these things. they're never pleasant cordial ghosts are they?," she says to no one in particular. As Illyana moves to protect Elora, she calls to the woman, "Might want to go for cover yourself mate."
Elora amid the eerie stillness and thickening fog which is wrapping around the graveyard like some otherworldy veil pulls free a ceremonial blade while a shockwave of power slams through the area, mangling gravestones. The monument she hid behind takes the brunt of the blast and the only sign of it troubling her is the way her neon hair whips in the cold wind.
"Sometimes pleasant," Elora lilts out to Illyana. "Lirael has that fae child that likes to play kissing games. But no. Most of these spirits are rather horrid. Best we take care of it while they're here. There are already too many ghost stories going around this town for my liking. Humans don't need to know about this sort of thing."
Illyana is quite literally inhumanly fast. She can also teleport around the area, so as the earth shakes, Illyana slips through a path, appearing once more between Elora and the spectral armies, though firmly footed before the monument. "I'm pretty confident," Illyana tells Emmelline that I can weather the brunt of all of this better than both of you.""
"I don't like the ghost child." Illyana calls over a shoulder to Elora, watching her as she prepares the banishment. "The kissing games and playing gay chicken is great, but the things it wants you to feel sucks."
Spectral war drums pound as cavalry specters sweep in from the flank, met by a line of phantom nature mages who attempt to pull at the soil beneath their feet. The clash shakes the ground, causing cracks to appear underfoot and sending the living stumbling as the earth heaves.
"All right mate, as you wish," Emmelline says with a nod, as she takes out a vial of what appears to be blood. She begins dripping the blood on various parts of the tablet, which has been carved with symbols shapes and runes. She makes sure to cover certain ones, but not others. If anyone weren't looking too closely, they might thing she's doing a weird painting of sorts but with a pipette, rather than a paint brush. 'No, I don't like that one either," she agrees with Illyana. "Much rather this insanity.""
Elora begins to use her blade to scratch into the smooth stone of the monument, carving a circle in it. "They sometimes do things which disrupt the ground," Elora says, leaving behind small, near invisible lines on the stone as her the rune covered ceremonial blade she is using scars the stone near imperceptibly. "I'll damage this later so that no one can see the sigils."
Elora puts a hand on the monument as the ground shakes in order to steady herself.
"Damage the ground just like that." Illyana grins, taking a step to the side as a crevass opens where she was stood moments before. "What I dislike about these is they don't like to let us fight them propperly. We just have to mostly watch on." Observing Emmelline's craft, the bohemian notes the tablet and the blood, filing it away for later. "It is harder, but the secrets part. I hate telling secrets unless I'm asked nicely."
Elora in her sigil work is forming a circle. On the outer edge of the circle sharp lines spill out, forming thorn-like protrusions which give the circle a sharper and more sinister quality. The lines are knife-thin, likely missed by someone without truly keen senses. Her blade scrapes along the stone material. "You can fight," Elora says to Illyana as she begins filling in the upper left section of the circle with runic symbols which someone familiar with the occult and ritualism might understand to be a targeting mechanism to direct the attention of something toward the battling armies. "There are so many of them after all." She pokes her head around the monument.
"I just hate how loud it all is," Elora complains. "The clamor of them."
Elora ducks her head back behind the monument, hiding herself.
"What?," Emmelline asks of Illyana, noticing her gaze. "I mean it's better than the dirt thing that some do. I mean this way, I don't have to worry about the wind blowing everything away or whatever. I mean it took an age to get this," she says tap tapping the tablet, "had to get it from an arcanist elsewhere. But you know..." she shrugs.
As the ground quakes with the stomp of spectral soldiers, a coven of phantom witches weaves spells that entangle the giants in thorny vines. The living are ensnared as well, ghostly vines tearing through the earth to wrap around their limbs, attempting to drag them down.
"On relationships though," Illyana notes to Elora, "You and Lily were very sweet together. It's one of the most lovely things I've seen since coming to this shitty town." Stepping back to avoid one thangle of vines, she steps into the path of another. Her aura flares and the plants flame, wither and turn to ash before Illyana answers Emmelline. "I've not seen that style of arcana before. It's interesting and new. I'm also not sure how I feel about seeing you doing anything supernatural."
Elora as spectrals vines emerge has a glare on her face and a fast reaction, her blade slamming down toward the vines. She had mentioned from the start that these things could sometimes disrupt the ground. As ghostly vines tear up the earth, she seems to have been precious and vindicated. More then that though, she seems entirely ready for the vines. As they race for her, her own blade is racing back for them. The rune covered thing in her hand flahses through spectral vines near her, causing them to disrupt into misty phasntasmal echoes of their formrer solidity which soon fade.
Likely more casual than needs be, Illyana generates fire in her palm, shooting it out like a flame thrower to destroy any and all evidence of active spiritual plant life-- And the existing plant life-- And blackening the tombstones around her.
"I don't know," Emmelline says with a shrug to Illyana. "It's better than as I said, putting patterns in the dirt, or doing what Elora is doing there, making their own. I wouldn't be able to remember it all," she says as she continues her work. "And yeah, I suppose it is weird for you. You've never seen me doing anything supernatural thus far."
Elora at Illyana's words glances toward Emmelline and the tablet trying to understand what it is.
"I like hers more." Illyana tells Emmelline, regarding Elora's circle. "It's beautiful in its way. It has flare and style."
A ghostly battlemage hurls a ball of fire, deflected mid-air by a phantom knight's shield, causing an explosion that sends searing heat and blinding light across the battlefield.
Elora moves to another section of the circle and begins scoring it with her knife, adding a smaller circle to the bottom right quadrant, with arching lines which spiral out to other sections. "It is not so complicated if you understand what you are doing. For one thing, you need to be able to feed life force into the circle. That is what I'm doing now. Across many rituals you find common elements like the need to direct and target it or the requirement of fueling it. Really the -" She cuts off as the shockwave of heat blasts through and around them, gritting her teeth against it.
Elora has a choker which glows.
Illyana strangely doesn't seem all that bothered by the heat-- Or the light. Maybe not, seeing as she appears to be enjoying herself as she finishes torching the landscape around her. Beginning to glow with incandescence, most of the detritus is deflected, that which isn't healing with demonic recovery.
"Oh yeah for sure," Emmelline agrees with a nod to Illyana. Seeing Elora's gaze, she explains, "This tablet has all the symbols and runes for different rituals. I have a couple copies, since once you use it, they rather need to go for a wash," she says laughing. "And well," she says, "I make sure the blood touches the parts I need it to, not other parts. It takes some doing, drip blood on the wrong part, and the ritual goes all kinds of wonky. Then I sort of use it like a magical focus," she goes on, "And off goes the ritual."
Between the chill of many spirits in the area adding a paranormal cool and her own arcana, reaching out to a distant Source of cold, the oppressive heat that grips the area is cracked, at least around Elora herself. She focuses back on her carving. Elora gets back to her carving into the tombstone.
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
Elora begins to speak. Her voice, a low hiss. As she speaks, she raises her blade, not to the stone, but to her own palm. "Spirites frigoris, audite vocem meam. Tenebris vetustis vinculis gelidis alligate. Umbrae malevolae, a me discedite. Glacies aeternam quietem imponat super vos. Silvhiberna vestras animas devoret. Ex hoc loco expellite et numquam redeatis! Per vim glaciei, per noctem sine fine, evanescite!" Her blade licks against her flesh coaxing forth blood which she smears onto the circle. In answer, the lines she has drawn begin to blaze with a wintery light that spirals out from the small circle she had drawn moments ago.
Elora hisses in pain from her shelter behind the tombstone, pulling her hand back and away, she cradles it, as her hair is whipped about. "It feels too impersonal to me to just use something already created. Who taught you to do it that way? I am student of Corina Sidthe whose is student of Morianna Sedai."
Well, there's that shockwave again. Illyana could weather it, but Elora has protection with the monument, and Emmelline is doing her own thing. So Illyana cheets again, avoiding it with another teleportation. She paths again, moving behind the shockwave about twenty feet and casually ambling back to where she was. "See." Illyana points out, nothing Elora's circle. "Pretty, even if the invocation uses multiple terms that reference darkness and winter. Mostly darkness-- And that I know from too many comic books."
'I read it," Emmelline simply replies to Elora. "I don't need it to be personal. I'm already giving my blood to it. I just need it to do what it needs to do," she explains, and as time passes, the tablet begins to emit a faint glow. Weak at first, and rather intermittent, but over time, ot grows stronger."
"Think you I like them," Elora asks Illyana. "I do not try to banish them to warm comfort on some beach. Let them suffer. Let them no know peace, since they wish to continue this eternal war of theirs."
Two spectral generals lock eyes from across the battlefield as their armies collide in a chaotic whirlwind of steel and spell. One of them has a blade wreathed in fire; the other conjures a vertex of ice-cold magic around him - their collision sends a shockwave rippling through the graveyard that knocks everyone off their feet and cracks all nearby gravestones right in half.
Elora scoffs at Emmelline's answer, rolling her eyes, as she focuses back on her circle, drawing new lines, her blade now leaving behind that glow with each motion against the stone. "You are communicating when you do a ritual. It is inherently personal whether you wish it to be or not."
"It would likely fuck with them more if you did banish them to a beach, but I love the vindictiveness against them. It's just different to-- Hang on." pathing once more to avoid the latest shockwave, Illyana throws a couple of fireballs as she returns. "Anyway, I don't dislike it. It shows Korina's influence. I love it, in fact. It's got its own twist."
"We all have our own ways," Emmelline simply replies to Elora, not seeming to take the least bit offense. And like or not, her method seems to be working, as the tablet's glow is quite strong now, having the desired effect on the spirits.
Elora is part of arcane society enough so to have some disdain for the self-taught in any matter touching about arcana.
A sudden gust of wind sweeps through the graveyard, scattering the remnants of battle - ashes, shattered stones, and burned foliage - until all that's left is an unsettling calm. The ghostly combatants begin to falter, their spectral forms flickering like dying embers. One by one, they retreat into the earth, their energy spent, until the graveyard is once again quiet.