Patrollogs
Minas Ghost Banishing 240805
Mina and Nikolai find themselves encircled by three ghostly pirates within the foggy confines of Arkwright Cemetery, under the cloak of a new moon night. The spirits, an eerie amalgamation of decayed ballroom and pirate attire, launch an assault with their spectral flintlock pistols, cutlasses, and knives. As the haunting melody of a piano fills the air, Mina hastily creates a protective barrier using salt and begins to weave sigils into the air to fend off the spectral attackers. Nikolai, wielding a flame-erupting hammer and expressing a disdain for these pirates, reveals his quest to collect a monster's pelt in Gharrek for Korina's project, indicating a pragmatic approach to the supernatural encounters. Their battle is relentless, with each combatant utilizing their unique abilities—Mina, her arcane sigils and a vampiric resilience to sunlight; Nikolai, his fire and a lineage tracing back to the god of fire and forge, Svarog.
In the climactic moments of their confrontation, Mina intensifies her magical assault, turning her bloodied invocations into a ruinous net that ensnares and weakens the encroaching spirits. Meanwhile, Nikolai, with a blend of pride and humility, credits his crafting skills to his divine heritage as he too becomes a beacon of flame against the dark figures. The spirits, caught in the wrath of both arcanist and forge god descendant, are ultimately forced into a spiraling retreat by the combined might of Mina's dark, angular sigils and Nikolai's flaming onslaught, culminating in their mysterious disappearance into the ground. This decisive battle not only showcases their formidable prowess but also hints at a deeper camaraderie and mutual respect between the two characters, standing together against the spectral menace.
(Mina's ghost banishing)
[Sun Aug 4 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 77F(25C) degrees, Ankle high mist flows through the area. There is a new moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"The pirates again," Mina voices with flecks of impatience throughout her tone, as she begins to prepare a more aggressive stance with the restless beings that manifest through some very cliche piano. Digging into a pocket of her blazer, she takes a handful of salt and rubs her hands in it before scattering it out across the ground. It freezes in suspension, before forming a wide circle around herself and Nikolai. A sheer pinkish barrier, stained with viscera begins to flicker around them.
"Need it for later," Nikolai says. "Korina is working on big project. Monster's in Gharrek, so that is where we're heading." He takes a ball-peen hammer from the inside of his jacket and lets out a little sigh. "I hate the pirates," he mutters, and then the steel of his hammer erupts like a furnace, issuing forth tongues of flame to lash at the ghosts' inner essence. He's not an arcanist, so his methods are going to be crude and not so efficient.
The three spirits surround Mina, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Mina begins to drag sigils about along the air, in a brief flicker of their manifestation; attempting to block the spirits from their threatening attacks. She ducks and sweeps down, letting Nikolai blast that flame high above her tousled bun. "So do I," she agrees darkly, sourness churning around in her utterance. "You're hunting big game there? For what purpose?"
"For the pelt," Nikolai replies, letting out a little laugh as he steps in close to provide Mina with a little cover. There's not a whole lot he can do to stop the barrage of spectral attacks, but at least the gunman has an extra target to split up his fire. "I do not pretend to understand magic. Korina's flavour of magic in particular. But I can at least understand job I am given - kill this, take skin, give to Korina. More jobs to come."
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Gradual twists of siphoning spectral energy dance about Mina, as she draws them forth; mouthing something in the silence of the actual violence attempting to threaten the integrity of her blazer. "More jobs to come," she nods, echoing the sentiment. "If you need help, you know I'm available for the asking..." But her focus diverges, away from Nikolai and his ability to keep some of her shielded. She turns, and slices her thumb over the air creating a bleeding wound from nothing. Paling, the savant begins to weave a net from the sigils she has previously sketched. Murky gore becomes a stark relief, like the neon of red streetlights -- coming aglow with a primordial, haemostatic power.
In a way, both Nikolai and Mina are calling upon the power of blood - only, the vampire might be a little more direct in her approach. "I normally would call on little sunlight to drive ghosts back," he grunts, "But not while I am right next to you. Instead, eh..." He trails off, eyeing a stone on the ground - then kicks it straight into a gravestone, which explodes as if struck by a cannonball. "Take that, fucking ghosts. Go back to fucking sleep." He nods at Mina - he's swearing in English, you see. How talented of him.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"If the sunlight is what you need, let it be, I can stand it for a time," Mina intones, though her attentiveness is not centered on Nikolai and more on his own perfectly acceptable invocation. The knocking on the gravestone has roused one, and she turns just in time to cast the bloodied net around the knife-wielding ghost. It slices through the entity and looks to weaken it for a short while, though no blood is drawn from it, it appears to flicker just a little more than it had before. "If only they could sleep forever, and I would not have to listen to this racket," she remarks through her teeth. The net unravels into a gory whip of a blood vine, lashing it along the other spectral images like the scourge of Nemesis.
"I rather let the practitioner take lead when it comes to banishing ghosts," Nikolai snorts, then steps past Mina to thrust his blazing hammer inside the bladesman ghost, letting that crackling heat burn up the spectre's will as fuel for the forge.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Mina clicks her tongue between her teeth. The more she lashes at these ghosts, the more they begin to fade alongside the sweltering fire of Nikolai's hammer. Splashes of gore paint along the air, which with a gesticulation and drawing of her hands they become more runic and dimensionally maddening in their fashioning. The dark geometry pours fourth, along and around her fingers as the salt begins to rise in the air around them, whispering doom for the spirits to come.
"Did you make your hammer, or did you find it?"
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"I bought this one at a hardware store," Nikolai chuckles, ducking under a lashing of Mina's claret whips as he moves to her back. "It is sort of like focus for you arcanists. I just need a hammer. I made my bigger one, but so long as I have hammer in hand, I can call on inner fire." He slams his forehead forwards into the knife-wielding ghost, which doesn't so much make impact as it does blind the thing and force it back. "Part of my bloodline. I am descended from god of fire and forge, Svarog."
"No wonder you craft so well," Mina murmurs, the compliment likely lost in the tangling of her invocations. She drops to one knee, and clenches her fists bloody. As they land against the graves and the loam touched earth, the salt is propelled up higher; beginning to scour and slash at the spectral figures. The angular nature of the sigils begin to rain down like gory tears, the ghosts beginning to sizzle and dissolve.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Mina, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
No, no, Nikolai has quite the ear for praise. He catches that, and a little smirk finds its way to his features. "Thank you," he says to Mina, stepping away simply to breathe in until flames lick around him like curlicues, then belts out a massive lashing of flames from his outstretched hand that races along his hammer like the stream of a flamethrower. "It certainly is," he says, a moment later. "It is talent given to me, not one I honed for myself. I was almost as good as I am now back when I was just getting started, hah. Blessings of Svarog have made my life much easier."
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.
In the climactic moments of their confrontation, Mina intensifies her magical assault, turning her bloodied invocations into a ruinous net that ensnares and weakens the encroaching spirits. Meanwhile, Nikolai, with a blend of pride and humility, credits his crafting skills to his divine heritage as he too becomes a beacon of flame against the dark figures. The spirits, caught in the wrath of both arcanist and forge god descendant, are ultimately forced into a spiraling retreat by the combined might of Mina's dark, angular sigils and Nikolai's flaming onslaught, culminating in their mysterious disappearance into the ground. This decisive battle not only showcases their formidable prowess but also hints at a deeper camaraderie and mutual respect between the two characters, standing together against the spectral menace.
(Mina's ghost banishing)
[Sun Aug 4 2024]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is night, about 77F(25C) degrees, Ankle high mist flows through the area. There is a new moon.
A haunting piano melody suddenly creeps over the graveyard as one by one, three spectral forms raise up into sight. Each is somewhat decayed and dressed in a mix of ballroom gown and old pirate garb, one wields a pair of flintlock pistols, another a wicked cutlass and the third a pair of sharp looking knives.
"The pirates again," Mina voices with flecks of impatience throughout her tone, as she begins to prepare a more aggressive stance with the restless beings that manifest through some very cliche piano. Digging into a pocket of her blazer, she takes a handful of salt and rubs her hands in it before scattering it out across the ground. It freezes in suspension, before forming a wide circle around herself and Nikolai. A sheer pinkish barrier, stained with viscera begins to flicker around them.
"Need it for later," Nikolai says. "Korina is working on big project. Monster's in Gharrek, so that is where we're heading." He takes a ball-peen hammer from the inside of his jacket and lets out a little sigh. "I hate the pirates," he mutters, and then the steel of his hammer erupts like a furnace, issuing forth tongues of flame to lash at the ghosts' inner essence. He's not an arcanist, so his methods are going to be crude and not so efficient.
The three spirits surround Mina, attacking and harrying her from all sides.
Mina begins to drag sigils about along the air, in a brief flicker of their manifestation; attempting to block the spirits from their threatening attacks. She ducks and sweeps down, letting Nikolai blast that flame high above her tousled bun. "So do I," she agrees darkly, sourness churning around in her utterance. "You're hunting big game there? For what purpose?"
"For the pelt," Nikolai replies, letting out a little laugh as he steps in close to provide Mina with a little cover. There's not a whole lot he can do to stop the barrage of spectral attacks, but at least the gunman has an extra target to split up his fire. "I do not pretend to understand magic. Korina's flavour of magic in particular. But I can at least understand job I am given - kill this, take skin, give to Korina. More jobs to come."
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Gradual twists of siphoning spectral energy dance about Mina, as she draws them forth; mouthing something in the silence of the actual violence attempting to threaten the integrity of her blazer. "More jobs to come," she nods, echoing the sentiment. "If you need help, you know I'm available for the asking..." But her focus diverges, away from Nikolai and his ability to keep some of her shielded. She turns, and slices her thumb over the air creating a bleeding wound from nothing. Paling, the savant begins to weave a net from the sigils she has previously sketched. Murky gore becomes a stark relief, like the neon of red streetlights -- coming aglow with a primordial, haemostatic power.
In a way, both Nikolai and Mina are calling upon the power of blood - only, the vampire might be a little more direct in her approach. "I normally would call on little sunlight to drive ghosts back," he grunts, "But not while I am right next to you. Instead, eh..." He trails off, eyeing a stone on the ground - then kicks it straight into a gravestone, which explodes as if struck by a cannonball. "Take that, fucking ghosts. Go back to fucking sleep." He nods at Mina - he's swearing in English, you see. How talented of him.
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"If the sunlight is what you need, let it be, I can stand it for a time," Mina intones, though her attentiveness is not centered on Nikolai and more on his own perfectly acceptable invocation. The knocking on the gravestone has roused one, and she turns just in time to cast the bloodied net around the knife-wielding ghost. It slices through the entity and looks to weaken it for a short while, though no blood is drawn from it, it appears to flicker just a little more than it had before. "If only they could sleep forever, and I would not have to listen to this racket," she remarks through her teeth. The net unravels into a gory whip of a blood vine, lashing it along the other spectral images like the scourge of Nemesis.
"I rather let the practitioner take lead when it comes to banishing ghosts," Nikolai snorts, then steps past Mina to thrust his blazing hammer inside the bladesman ghost, letting that crackling heat burn up the spectre's will as fuel for the forge.
The three spirits encircle the group, flicking in and out of reality as they coral them.
Mina clicks her tongue between her teeth. The more she lashes at these ghosts, the more they begin to fade alongside the sweltering fire of Nikolai's hammer. Splashes of gore paint along the air, which with a gesticulation and drawing of her hands they become more runic and dimensionally maddening in their fashioning. The dark geometry pours fourth, along and around her fingers as the salt begins to rise in the air around them, whispering doom for the spirits to come.
"Did you make your hammer, or did you find it?"
The double knife weilder appears suddenly behind Mina, cackling right in her ear before rearing back to stab her in the back.
"I bought this one at a hardware store," Nikolai chuckles, ducking under a lashing of Mina's claret whips as he moves to her back. "It is sort of like focus for you arcanists. I just need a hammer. I made my bigger one, but so long as I have hammer in hand, I can call on inner fire." He slams his forehead forwards into the knife-wielding ghost, which doesn't so much make impact as it does blind the thing and force it back. "Part of my bloodline. I am descended from god of fire and forge, Svarog."
"No wonder you craft so well," Mina murmurs, the compliment likely lost in the tangling of her invocations. She drops to one knee, and clenches her fists bloody. As they land against the graves and the loam touched earth, the salt is propelled up higher; beginning to scour and slash at the spectral figures. The angular nature of the sigils begin to rain down like gory tears, the ghosts beginning to sizzle and dissolve.
The cutlass-wielder attacks Mina, driving her back as the flintlock lady appears behind her, using the distraction to go through her pockets.
No, no, Nikolai has quite the ear for praise. He catches that, and a little smirk finds its way to his features. "Thank you," he says to Mina, stepping away simply to breathe in until flames lick around him like curlicues, then belts out a massive lashing of flames from his outstretched hand that races along his hammer like the stream of a flamethrower. "It certainly is," he says, a moment later. "It is talent given to me, not one I honed for myself. I was almost as good as I am now back when I was just getting started, hah. Blessings of Svarog have made my life much easier."
The three spirits begin to convulse and shake, they quickly move to grip each other, forming a tight circle as they spin faster and faster, strange orchestral music flowing through the air from nowhere before suddenly they are sucked down into the ground and vanish.