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Sams Ghost Banishing 250410
On a chilling night in Arkwright Cemetery, with the moon casting an eerie glow over the gravestones, Sam found himself surrounded by a malevolent force. The sudden smell of brimstone and a rising black mist shaped like demonic creatures signaled the beginning of a supernatural assault. As winged monkey-demons swooped down with psychic claws, Sam, unfazed by the familiar terror, resorted to his mystical abilities. He inscribed his own blood, coupled with an incantation of "Blood, Will, and Devotion," onto a kris-knife, reinforcing his resolve to banish these entities. The demons' relentless attacks seemed to only strengthen his determination, as he stood ready to defend himself and those with him against the spectral onslaught.
The situation escalated when an armored warrior emerged from the smoke, threatening with a massive sword, followed by a horned figure that sought to crush Sam's will with a spell of constriction. Despite the overwhelming odds, Sam's defiance shone brightly. Utilizing a human fingerbone as a focus, he countered the spectral magic, showcasing his profound knowledge and skill in combatting such dark forces. In a dramatic turn of events, Sam was ensnared by a giant, infernal spider, attempting to trap him in a cocoon of black mist. However, with a cunning smirk and a serpentine hiss, he manipulated the shadows to create a vortex, drawing all malevolent presences into it and thereby securing his victory over the darkness that sought to overwhelm Arkwright Cemetery. Sam's adept handling of the situation, fortified by his unwavering courage and command over the mystic arts, brought the eerie night to a triumphant close as peace was restored, at least temporarily, to the resting place of the departed.
(Sam's ghost banishing)
[Wed Apr 9 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is after dusk, about 60F(15C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
"Oh, these." Sam sighs, and, drawing his strange kris-knife. He draws it over his palm, then clasps it around the ring on his finger. "By Blood, Will, and Devotion...." He starts incanting, not even drawing a summoning shape, perhaps realizing he might need to stay mobile.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Sam, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
A hiss, and Sam twists his knife to stab at the smoke around him, his voice, laced with pain from the clawing, ringing over the otherwise empty cemetery. "I condemn you, return to the Beyond, and begone!" The runes on that ring of his glow as he slowly lets blood from his hand drip down onto the grass below, the shadows around him slowly twisting and curling.
Sam says "Oh, yeah, that time."
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sam and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Sam, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
A growl, and Sam shuts the trapdoor behind him, looking around with narrowed eyes. "Still following me?" He sniffs the air, drawing his knife again.
Softly, Sam hisses, and he slowly trudges towards the ritual triangle, muttering to himself. "At least there won't be any wolves intervening I guess...."
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Sam, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Letting out a low hiss, Sam paths aside of the rider, then speaks loudly, and clearly. "By BLOOD, WILL AND DEVOTION!" His voice echoes through the hollow room. "I commit your souls to Duat! Be not and be gone!" His voice hisses out, like a serpent of sorts.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Sam, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Sam can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
"Oh no ya fucking... HNN.." Sam grasps to his chest, and, going to one knee, the jock pulls out his other focus: A human-looking fingerbone as he holds it aloft, trying to counter the spectral magic with his own perhaps, the jock's eyes narrowing slowly as he works his magic.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Sam and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Sam into some awful cocoon.
For a few moments, Sam scatters blood carefully onto the ground below.... right before that demon spider wraps him up. He starts to toss and turn, slowly trying to reach for his knife. A glare is given towards the thing, as shadows in the room darken and flicker.
Then, a hiss of a serpent is heard, and Sam's lips curl into a smirk as the smoke and shadow around the jock and the specters starts to turn a deep, dark, oily quality. Slowly, the presences there start to swirl, like they are sucked into a vortex in the middle of that triangle within the room....
The situation escalated when an armored warrior emerged from the smoke, threatening with a massive sword, followed by a horned figure that sought to crush Sam's will with a spell of constriction. Despite the overwhelming odds, Sam's defiance shone brightly. Utilizing a human fingerbone as a focus, he countered the spectral magic, showcasing his profound knowledge and skill in combatting such dark forces. In a dramatic turn of events, Sam was ensnared by a giant, infernal spider, attempting to trap him in a cocoon of black mist. However, with a cunning smirk and a serpentine hiss, he manipulated the shadows to create a vortex, drawing all malevolent presences into it and thereby securing his victory over the darkness that sought to overwhelm Arkwright Cemetery. Sam's adept handling of the situation, fortified by his unwavering courage and command over the mystic arts, brought the eerie night to a triumphant close as peace was restored, at least temporarily, to the resting place of the departed.
(Sam's ghost banishing)
[Wed Apr 9 2025]
On the Sprawling Hillside of Arkwright Cemetery
It is after dusk, about 60F(15C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky. There is a waxing gibbous moon.
There is the sudden smell of brimstone that fills the area, and along with a rising, black mist: smoke, coiling along the surface of the graveyard. It seems to form strange whorls and shapes, and as they draw close to %n they begin to look more and more like creatures -- horned creatures, with red eyes full of menace.
"Oh, these." Sam sighs, and, drawing his strange kris-knife. He draws it over his palm, then clasps it around the ring on his finger. "By Blood, Will, and Devotion...." He starts incanting, not even drawing a summoning shape, perhaps realizing he might need to stay mobile.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Sam, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
A hiss, and Sam twists his knife to stab at the smoke around him, his voice, laced with pain from the clawing, ringing over the otherwise empty cemetery. "I condemn you, return to the Beyond, and begone!" The runes on that ring of his glow as he slowly lets blood from his hand drip down onto the grass below, the shadows around him slowly twisting and curling.
Sam says "Oh, yeah, that time."
As the dark mists roil in the cemetery, Sam and everyone with them are struck with a sudden fear. It's cold and awful, sinking into their heart to make the world seem impossible and alone.
With a howl, some kind of winged monkey-demon swoops down near Sam, its body made of living smoke. It's all grasping claws, striking hard to leave psychic scars that hurt like deep slashes. Other monkeys attack anyone nearby, with similar screeching, rending claws.
A growl, and Sam shuts the trapdoor behind him, looking around with narrowed eyes. "Still following me?" He sniffs the air, drawing his knife again.
Softly, Sam hisses, and he slowly trudges towards the ritual triangle, muttering to himself. "At least there won't be any wolves intervening I guess...."
Out of the smoke charges an armed and armored warrior, spun out of black mist. He is dressed head to toe in archaic plate armor, wielding some huge, two-handed sword as black as his armor. With a roar, he rushes at Sam, swinging the sword in some attempt to cut off their head.
Letting out a low hiss, Sam paths aside of the rider, then speaks loudly, and clearly. "By BLOOD, WILL AND DEVOTION!" His voice echoes through the hollow room. "I commit your souls to Duat! Be not and be gone!" His voice hisses out, like a serpent of sorts.
Some figure forms in the smoke: tall, it has twisted horns and red eyes. It levels a gnarled finger at Sam, beginning to chant in an unknown language as the air begins to crackle with magic. Immediately, Sam can feel something like a vise closing on their heart.
"Oh no ya fucking... HNN.." Sam grasps to his chest, and, going to one knee, the jock pulls out his other focus: A human-looking fingerbone as he holds it aloft, trying to counter the spectral magic with his own perhaps, the jock's eyes narrowing slowly as he works his magic.
There is a look above -- and then, from an overarching tree, Sam and their companions can see a black spider made of infernal smoke. It's huge, with a bloated belly, and then spun spider strands of black mist descend to wrap Sam into some awful cocoon.
For a few moments, Sam scatters blood carefully onto the ground below.... right before that demon spider wraps him up. He starts to toss and turn, slowly trying to reach for his knife. A glare is given towards the thing, as shadows in the room darken and flicker.
Then, a hiss of a serpent is heard, and Sam's lips curl into a smirk as the smoke and shadow around the jock and the specters starts to turn a deep, dark, oily quality. Slowly, the presences there start to swirl, like they are sucked into a vortex in the middle of that triangle within the room....