Patrollogs
Jesss Ghost Banishing 250207
In the haunting atmosphere of Arkwright Cemetery at dusk, with a chilling fog setting the stage, Jess, Sam, and William find themselves embroiled in a ghostly war that transcends time. Two spectral armies clash with ferocity, one wielding elemental magic and the other spectral weapons, creating a battlefield filled with peril and supernatural phenomena. Jess, quick to react and adapt, manages to neutralize a spectral knight with his gun after his knife proves ineffective. Sam, employing a blend of blood magic and guardianship, establishes protective measures, while William, caught in the crossfire, contributes with his own blend of magic, emphasizing the dire circumstances with his wounded state. Their combined effort is a desperate bid to survive and navigate through the chaos of battling ghosts, with each action fraught with danger and the unknown.
The turning point comes as William initiates a complex ritual, drawing upon arcane symbols and blood magic, with Sam lending his energies to reinforce the magical barriers. Amidst the onslaught of spectral knights and mages, Jess leverages his physical prowess, functioning as a crucial distraction despite suffering from the assaults. The culmination of William's ritual unleashes an eldritch force, manifesting as dark, tentacle-like entities that voraciously consume the ghostly combatants, effectively pacifying the supernatural storm. This final act of desperation brings an end to the spectral warfare, leaving the cemetery silent once more. The trio's resilience, combined with their unique blend of abilities, showcases the unorthodox yet effective methods employed to confront and resolve the supernatural crisis, paving the way for a moment of respite in the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal.
(Jess's ghost banishing)
[Thu Feb 6 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is dusk, about 37F(2C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. Ankle high mist flows through the area.
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.
William nods his head to Jess and then to Sam
"Huh." Jess is taken aback as a veil of might seeps in from the fog. He takes out his knife, ducks instinctively, and takes cover behind a tombstone. "CONTACT! TWO-EIGHT FIVE AND THIRTY FIVE!"
A towering, spectral knight swings his sword at a ghostly conjurer, cutting the arcanist in half and continuing onwards to collide against a gravestone. The collision smashes the gravestone apart, sending shards flying all around dangerously.
Slowly, Sam unsheathes his knife, an oily kris knife with a shimmering blade. He stretches out, and looks over to William as he shudders. He looks upon the spirits.
"Thorne, you on banishing?" The jock lifts his arms as the shards come flying, and he winces a little, one cutting by his face. "SON OF A FUCK!"
"Oh, the army again... Well, this one is probably the best outcome for a starter, they tend to focus on each other rather than... Us. We are just caught in the crossfire-" William says, but trails off as he watches and listens to Jess, blinking a couple times and moving away from the two bigger armies, searching for a tall enough tombstone to hide behind himself- Just before getting struck by the shattering of his coverage, shards of stone piercing through the skin of his discovered arms "Ow fuckin- I can do that, yes" He tells Sam
Jess's gravestone is a shower of concrete ripping just over his back. With a kip, a vault, and a very healthy disassociation he touches his ring finger to thumb and yanks the spectral knight of his steed, attempting to dig his knife under the plate like a rake into a cauldron.
Jess drops the knife as the spectral spirit doesn't go down, pulls a glock from under his jacket, and proceeds to unload under the collar until its ghostly form buckles and dissipates.
"Good. Stay behind me, then." Sam lays a line of blood from his hand onto the ground, forming a semi-circle between the ghosts and William. He holds a human fingerbone around his neck with his hand, reddish runes glowing under his grasp. The jock lowers into a sort of crouch, narrowing his eyes.
A phalanx of ghostly knights charges forward, their spectral lances aimed at a line of mages, who summon a wall of fire in a desperate attempt to halt the advance. The resulting explosion sends waves of heat blasting throughout the graveyard, setting plants and clothing on fire.
seemed to be looking for another valid cover when Sam begins his own mancing, huhing a little and nodding his head, ducking to the ground behind the man and reaching for a knife concealed within his clothes, pulling it out "You got it..." William comments as if to give some auditive cue of agreement before he cuts his own hand, letting some blood pool in it before dipping two fingers into the red substance, then dragging those same fingers towards the ground and drawing a decently big enough circle on the ground
(fixed) William seemed to be looking for another valid cover when Sam begins his own mancing, huhing a little and nodding his head, ducking to the ground behind the man and reaching for a knife concealed within his clothes, pulling it out "You got it..." William comments as if to give some auditive cue of agreement before he cuts his own hand, letting some blood pool in it before dipping two fingers into the red substance, then dragging those same fingers towards the ground and drawing a decently big enough circle on the ground
Shadows seem to gather slowly around Sam as he clasps his hand into a fist, the sharp amulet of strange metal around his neck shimmering. A blast of heat seems to just... pass him by, like the Jock is just a bit too lucky, really. He shifts his stance, and smirks. "In theory, we're halves to a whole, Thorne. Placeholder or no." He nods to Jess, glancing over. "You aight there, Stranger?"
Jess is sent to a knee as the explosion concusses him, sending his sprint hard into a gravestone monolith placed with more effort than sense. A familiar tinnitus springs from both ears as he stumbles back along its side, catching the breath that's louder than the surroundings. He looks to Sam and someone, registers, and nods dully.
Jess is sent to a knee as the explosion concusses him, sending his sprint hard into a gravestone monolith placed with more effort than sense. A familiar tinnitus springs from both ears as he stumbles back along its side, catching the breath that's louder than the surroundings. He looks to Sam and William, registers, and nods dully.
Jess says "JUST SHELL SHOCKED! IT'LL CLEAR!"
"The amount of innuendo one could make right now..." William comments as response to Sam, as if to avoid giving an answer to the whole placeholder thing, taking a deep breath, and much like other times beginning to draw a smaller concentric circle to the original, which is followed by six similar ones placed equidistant around the inner bigger circumference "I like to think I'm just- Not completely aligning with the mess of tentacles the reptile is, rather than completely opposite"
A group of ethereal berserkers charge, only to be met by a rain of icy shards summoned by frost mancers. The temperature plummets, and living breath freezes in the air, while ice forms treacherous patches beneath the feet, threatening to send everyone sprawling upon the ground.
Sam's shadow seems to lengthen, thin, and coil like a snake, slowly oozing towards William's ritual, following the already drawn lines, and tracing over them, casting an eery, dull-black light.
"That's because ya got the luxery to do so, Thorne." Sam trails off, focussing on the new ice, and letting out a grunt, trying to steady himself, the jock's attention firmly back in place on the specters.
Jess takes a shot at a frosty mancer, but the gun immediately jams. The reliable Glock is no match for supernatural stigma- but it doesn't make it any less the projectile. Lumbering around the monolith he sticks his momentum into a short skate that feels faster than it looks, coming upon rolling berserkers having less success on the ice and cracking vertebraes one by two.
"Oh, there we go..." William muses as the temperature plummets, much as it's making him dip his fingers twice as often into his bloody hand, he seems to be way more comfortable in the freezing cold, the number of circles he's had to draw are quickly followed by a triangle, and after it by an inverted one on top of the original, creating a six pointed start, his eyebrow perking slightly at the shadows coiling getting into the ritual "I am not beating the void ritual allegations now... I like to think having thought is more than a luxary, but uh... I'll keep it in mind"
As a battalion of armored specters marches forth, a group of wraith-like sorcerers unleashes a storm of arcane missiles, shattering the ghostly shields; the resulting shockwave threatens to make ears bleed, if someone gets caught without cover.
"INCOMING!" Sam steps into the shadows, re-appearing near William. He then squares his stance in front of William, perhaps trying to avoid a repeat of the last time, though how much use is a singular Jock's body against a spectral shock-wave? Either way, the Jock's ear-drums go POP, and he hisses, blood slowly seeping out from the side of his ears. "FUCK!"
*RIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG...*
Jess stumbles as the misty berserker body-shield gives way to the impact, clutching his ears. He doesn't drop- dropping does no good- so he runs back- treating the shockwave like bomb-shells and diving back to Sam and someone. A line of red pours from his right ear.
"Mop. Moohp. Mohp."
*RIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG...*
Jess stumbles as the misty berserker body-shield gives way to the impact, clutching his ears. He doesn't drop- dropping does no good- so he runs back- treating the shockwave like bomb-shells and diving back to Sam and William. A line of red pours from his right ear.
"Mop. Moohp. Mohp."
William lets out a loud groan of pain, Sam's methods of defense apparently being no match for, well, sound, he flinches in place for a good couple seconds, maybe the body of the jock would have done something, but with sensitive senses like those of William, what makes a human's ears bleed, makes his bleed even when lessened.
And so from both sides the blood starts streaming down. His eyes close for an instant before opening once more, trying to focus on the drawing on the ground. Sparing a glance at Jess as he dives closeby, almost warningly not to mess with the mixture of blood and now shadows in front of him, as he starts to slowly inscribe some runes and glyphs along the edges of the drawn star
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.
As the ground shakes, Sam falls to one knee, wincing as he just decides to stay there, raking open both palms as he places them on the ground, that earlier drawn semi-circle of blood flaring up as shadows coil around it, a hissing sound coming from that arcane shield of sorts, as if to wane off the spirits.
He doesn't give a quip, perhaps because his own ears are still recovering.
War is quite easy when one doesn't have to move. When there are not actions to take but survive- when the world spins does not press? Life is good for Jess as he steadies himself with two hands on either side of himself.
And then a cavalry man comes from his flank. Jess, improper cowboy that he is. Tackles the horse from the side. He has not right to yank this creature to the ground, but an eighthundred pound deadlift at fourty miles per hour, and a telekinetic thrust along the hindquarters sends him, horse and rider tumbling into the dirt.
"No, no, no... Fucking..." William groans as he sees the cracks start appearing on the ground, he seemed to be already done inscribing the runes across the whole drawing, but the harm done to the place he was drawing forces him to reach to a side, away from the circle, to grab some earth and start patching up the wounds inflicted upon the ritual circle. Filling them with the soil and retracing what had been undone by the cracking.
And once the patching up is finished, he takes a deep breath and lowers his voice, lower than a whisper. Retreating from the circle and sitting on his knees, closing his eyes and beginning to mutter in some strange language, seemingly zoning out from both his companions and the spirits wrecking havoc among the cemetry
Jess, create redundantly disembarked, lets the mist struggle as he wrestles its knight and savagely breaks each limb- catching a dirk grazing along his ribs for the trouble. He crawls, muddy, back to the shield of arcanum he does not know is a shield, heavy in breath and wild eyed.
Jess says, still deafened, "I TACKKLEDED A HOOOSE!"
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.
As William chants, the shadows around him coil onto his torso, the air around that circle taking on a strange, oily sort of quality, much like what the air around the entire city has been doing all day. The fire from the ball of heat seems to do nothing to the shadows, like they refuse to be touched by any manner physical.
Sam, for his part, is slowly raising up from the ground, his barrier faltering as energy seems to be drawn towards William.
And as William starts to chant in his whispering voice, the blood starts to light up slightly, which combined with the shadows that Sam cast before to help trace... Is weird, something both lighting up and in the dark at once, the unnatural things magic can do... What normally would be beams of white light with stains of green and blue, is now more of a self contained thing, not beaming into the sky but coiling around the ground, and some darker tones of black and red also making themselves present, the sight almost oily in nature, and the man doesn't stop speaking, even as the magic from the other man starts climbing him up
Jess takes a moment to gawk in disbelief at the process he had left behind. He understands about as well as he looks as some eldritch, roiling series of black shapes overtakes flame and the sound running through his ears isn't deaf tinnitus with a sense of humor, but actual hissing.
"What Sam hell?"
Jess says "What in Sam hell?*"
The ritual drawing to a zenith, Sam places both his hands, and his forehead to the ground. He wishpers but a single word, in a detached, strange, and foreign voice seemingly much much older than he himself is. "Die"
Then, he closes his eyes, shuddering in clear agony.
Within moments, the light crawling around the circle, and the shadows, start piling up together, clustering together, building up tentacles, which, unlike other times, William has been seen casting the same kind of ritual, seem much more physical and real, no longer made out of light but what seems like dark flesh, almost dripping with something akin to oil. Sprouting from the circle, much more numerous, girthy and strong looking, launching themselves to grab the armies, almost making a scene out of a kraken movie, grabbing spirits and instead of holding them down like normally until they are banished, simply staring to drive them into ground, swallowing them whole, piece by piece consuming the armies like it was hungry
The turning point comes as William initiates a complex ritual, drawing upon arcane symbols and blood magic, with Sam lending his energies to reinforce the magical barriers. Amidst the onslaught of spectral knights and mages, Jess leverages his physical prowess, functioning as a crucial distraction despite suffering from the assaults. The culmination of William's ritual unleashes an eldritch force, manifesting as dark, tentacle-like entities that voraciously consume the ghostly combatants, effectively pacifying the supernatural storm. This final act of desperation brings an end to the spectral warfare, leaving the cemetery silent once more. The trio's resilience, combined with their unique blend of abilities, showcases the unorthodox yet effective methods employed to confront and resolve the supernatural crisis, paving the way for a moment of respite in the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal.
(Jess's ghost banishing)
[Thu Feb 6 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is dusk, about 37F(2C) degrees, and there are a few wispy white clouds in the sky. Ankle high mist flows through the area.
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.
William nods his head to Jess and then to Sam
"Huh." Jess is taken aback as a veil of might seeps in from the fog. He takes out his knife, ducks instinctively, and takes cover behind a tombstone. "CONTACT! TWO-EIGHT FIVE AND THIRTY FIVE!"
A towering, spectral knight swings his sword at a ghostly conjurer, cutting the arcanist in half and continuing onwards to collide against a gravestone. The collision smashes the gravestone apart, sending shards flying all around dangerously.
Slowly, Sam unsheathes his knife, an oily kris knife with a shimmering blade. He stretches out, and looks over to William as he shudders. He looks upon the spirits.
"Thorne, you on banishing?" The jock lifts his arms as the shards come flying, and he winces a little, one cutting by his face. "SON OF A FUCK!"
"Oh, the army again... Well, this one is probably the best outcome for a starter, they tend to focus on each other rather than... Us. We are just caught in the crossfire-" William says, but trails off as he watches and listens to Jess, blinking a couple times and moving away from the two bigger armies, searching for a tall enough tombstone to hide behind himself- Just before getting struck by the shattering of his coverage, shards of stone piercing through the skin of his discovered arms "Ow fuckin- I can do that, yes" He tells Sam
Jess's gravestone is a shower of concrete ripping just over his back. With a kip, a vault, and a very healthy disassociation he touches his ring finger to thumb and yanks the spectral knight of his steed, attempting to dig his knife under the plate like a rake into a cauldron.
Jess drops the knife as the spectral spirit doesn't go down, pulls a glock from under his jacket, and proceeds to unload under the collar until its ghostly form buckles and dissipates.
"Good. Stay behind me, then." Sam lays a line of blood from his hand onto the ground, forming a semi-circle between the ghosts and William. He holds a human fingerbone around his neck with his hand, reddish runes glowing under his grasp. The jock lowers into a sort of crouch, narrowing his eyes.
A phalanx of ghostly knights charges forward, their spectral lances aimed at a line of mages, who summon a wall of fire in a desperate attempt to halt the advance. The resulting explosion sends waves of heat blasting throughout the graveyard, setting plants and clothing on fire.
seemed to be looking for another valid cover when Sam begins his own mancing, huhing a little and nodding his head, ducking to the ground behind the man and reaching for a knife concealed within his clothes, pulling it out "You got it..." William comments as if to give some auditive cue of agreement before he cuts his own hand, letting some blood pool in it before dipping two fingers into the red substance, then dragging those same fingers towards the ground and drawing a decently big enough circle on the ground
(fixed) William seemed to be looking for another valid cover when Sam begins his own mancing, huhing a little and nodding his head, ducking to the ground behind the man and reaching for a knife concealed within his clothes, pulling it out "You got it..." William comments as if to give some auditive cue of agreement before he cuts his own hand, letting some blood pool in it before dipping two fingers into the red substance, then dragging those same fingers towards the ground and drawing a decently big enough circle on the ground
Shadows seem to gather slowly around Sam as he clasps his hand into a fist, the sharp amulet of strange metal around his neck shimmering. A blast of heat seems to just... pass him by, like the Jock is just a bit too lucky, really. He shifts his stance, and smirks. "In theory, we're halves to a whole, Thorne. Placeholder or no." He nods to Jess, glancing over. "You aight there, Stranger?"
Jess is sent to a knee as the explosion concusses him, sending his sprint hard into a gravestone monolith placed with more effort than sense. A familiar tinnitus springs from both ears as he stumbles back along its side, catching the breath that's louder than the surroundings. He looks to Sam and someone, registers, and nods dully.
Jess is sent to a knee as the explosion concusses him, sending his sprint hard into a gravestone monolith placed with more effort than sense. A familiar tinnitus springs from both ears as he stumbles back along its side, catching the breath that's louder than the surroundings. He looks to Sam and William, registers, and nods dully.
Jess says "JUST SHELL SHOCKED! IT'LL CLEAR!"
"The amount of innuendo one could make right now..." William comments as response to Sam, as if to avoid giving an answer to the whole placeholder thing, taking a deep breath, and much like other times beginning to draw a smaller concentric circle to the original, which is followed by six similar ones placed equidistant around the inner bigger circumference "I like to think I'm just- Not completely aligning with the mess of tentacles the reptile is, rather than completely opposite"
A group of ethereal berserkers charge, only to be met by a rain of icy shards summoned by frost mancers. The temperature plummets, and living breath freezes in the air, while ice forms treacherous patches beneath the feet, threatening to send everyone sprawling upon the ground.
Sam's shadow seems to lengthen, thin, and coil like a snake, slowly oozing towards William's ritual, following the already drawn lines, and tracing over them, casting an eery, dull-black light.
"That's because ya got the luxery to do so, Thorne." Sam trails off, focussing on the new ice, and letting out a grunt, trying to steady himself, the jock's attention firmly back in place on the specters.
Jess takes a shot at a frosty mancer, but the gun immediately jams. The reliable Glock is no match for supernatural stigma- but it doesn't make it any less the projectile. Lumbering around the monolith he sticks his momentum into a short skate that feels faster than it looks, coming upon rolling berserkers having less success on the ice and cracking vertebraes one by two.
"Oh, there we go..." William muses as the temperature plummets, much as it's making him dip his fingers twice as often into his bloody hand, he seems to be way more comfortable in the freezing cold, the number of circles he's had to draw are quickly followed by a triangle, and after it by an inverted one on top of the original, creating a six pointed start, his eyebrow perking slightly at the shadows coiling getting into the ritual "I am not beating the void ritual allegations now... I like to think having thought is more than a luxary, but uh... I'll keep it in mind"
As a battalion of armored specters marches forth, a group of wraith-like sorcerers unleashes a storm of arcane missiles, shattering the ghostly shields; the resulting shockwave threatens to make ears bleed, if someone gets caught without cover.
"INCOMING!" Sam steps into the shadows, re-appearing near William. He then squares his stance in front of William, perhaps trying to avoid a repeat of the last time, though how much use is a singular Jock's body against a spectral shock-wave? Either way, the Jock's ear-drums go POP, and he hisses, blood slowly seeping out from the side of his ears. "FUCK!"
*RIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG...*
Jess stumbles as the misty berserker body-shield gives way to the impact, clutching his ears. He doesn't drop- dropping does no good- so he runs back- treating the shockwave like bomb-shells and diving back to Sam and someone. A line of red pours from his right ear.
"Mop. Moohp. Mohp."
*RIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG...*
Jess stumbles as the misty berserker body-shield gives way to the impact, clutching his ears. He doesn't drop- dropping does no good- so he runs back- treating the shockwave like bomb-shells and diving back to Sam and William. A line of red pours from his right ear.
"Mop. Moohp. Mohp."
William lets out a loud groan of pain, Sam's methods of defense apparently being no match for, well, sound, he flinches in place for a good couple seconds, maybe the body of the jock would have done something, but with sensitive senses like those of William, what makes a human's ears bleed, makes his bleed even when lessened.
And so from both sides the blood starts streaming down. His eyes close for an instant before opening once more, trying to focus on the drawing on the ground. Sparing a glance at Jess as he dives closeby, almost warningly not to mess with the mixture of blood and now shadows in front of him, as he starts to slowly inscribe some runes and glyphs along the edges of the drawn star
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.
As the ground shakes, Sam falls to one knee, wincing as he just decides to stay there, raking open both palms as he places them on the ground, that earlier drawn semi-circle of blood flaring up as shadows coil around it, a hissing sound coming from that arcane shield of sorts, as if to wane off the spirits.
He doesn't give a quip, perhaps because his own ears are still recovering.
War is quite easy when one doesn't have to move. When there are not actions to take but survive- when the world spins does not press? Life is good for Jess as he steadies himself with two hands on either side of himself.
And then a cavalry man comes from his flank. Jess, improper cowboy that he is. Tackles the horse from the side. He has not right to yank this creature to the ground, but an eighthundred pound deadlift at fourty miles per hour, and a telekinetic thrust along the hindquarters sends him, horse and rider tumbling into the dirt.
"No, no, no... Fucking..." William groans as he sees the cracks start appearing on the ground, he seemed to be already done inscribing the runes across the whole drawing, but the harm done to the place he was drawing forces him to reach to a side, away from the circle, to grab some earth and start patching up the wounds inflicted upon the ritual circle. Filling them with the soil and retracing what had been undone by the cracking.
And once the patching up is finished, he takes a deep breath and lowers his voice, lower than a whisper. Retreating from the circle and sitting on his knees, closing his eyes and beginning to mutter in some strange language, seemingly zoning out from both his companions and the spirits wrecking havoc among the cemetry
Jess, create redundantly disembarked, lets the mist struggle as he wrestles its knight and savagely breaks each limb- catching a dirk grazing along his ribs for the trouble. He crawls, muddy, back to the shield of arcanum he does not know is a shield, heavy in breath and wild eyed.
Jess says, still deafened, "I TACKKLEDED A HOOOSE!"
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.
As William chants, the shadows around him coil onto his torso, the air around that circle taking on a strange, oily sort of quality, much like what the air around the entire city has been doing all day. The fire from the ball of heat seems to do nothing to the shadows, like they refuse to be touched by any manner physical.
Sam, for his part, is slowly raising up from the ground, his barrier faltering as energy seems to be drawn towards William.
And as William starts to chant in his whispering voice, the blood starts to light up slightly, which combined with the shadows that Sam cast before to help trace... Is weird, something both lighting up and in the dark at once, the unnatural things magic can do... What normally would be beams of white light with stains of green and blue, is now more of a self contained thing, not beaming into the sky but coiling around the ground, and some darker tones of black and red also making themselves present, the sight almost oily in nature, and the man doesn't stop speaking, even as the magic from the other man starts climbing him up
Jess takes a moment to gawk in disbelief at the process he had left behind. He understands about as well as he looks as some eldritch, roiling series of black shapes overtakes flame and the sound running through his ears isn't deaf tinnitus with a sense of humor, but actual hissing.
"What Sam hell?"
Jess says "What in Sam hell?*"
The ritual drawing to a zenith, Sam places both his hands, and his forehead to the ground. He wishpers but a single word, in a detached, strange, and foreign voice seemingly much much older than he himself is. "Die"
Then, he closes his eyes, shuddering in clear agony.
Within moments, the light crawling around the circle, and the shadows, start piling up together, clustering together, building up tentacles, which, unlike other times, William has been seen casting the same kind of ritual, seem much more physical and real, no longer made out of light but what seems like dark flesh, almost dripping with something akin to oil. Sprouting from the circle, much more numerous, girthy and strong looking, launching themselves to grab the armies, almost making a scene out of a kraken movie, grabbing spirits and instead of holding them down like normally until they are banished, simply staring to drive them into ground, swallowing them whole, piece by piece consuming the armies like it was hungry