Thread: Stolen Bones [Alakazam & Grungeknuckle]

Deayojee smelled fear. In a city, that could mean anything, and be coming from anyone, but Samuel's instincts told him otherwise. His once-hound's senses and the locator vial were almost in sync, leading him down the same path at nearly the same time. He turned down one of the mid-level streets, well-lit and mostly clear, to see an elvish woman look back over her shoulder, and enter a house. That had to be it. There could be no mistake. Sure enough, as he paused in front of the house, Deayojee found that the trail ended at the door, and the vial pulled towards the house. Samuel took a few steps back, looking it over. Simple. Small. Single-story. Too low down on this level for a cellar. To close to other houses for a sewer exit. Except for windows, this door was the only way in and out. He had to be sure, though. Samuel turned his back to the building, and leaned against it, next to the door, trying to look casual. There were still a few stragglers, winding their way around the streets. Nas, he whispered, ducking his chin down into the coat, slip inside. Find the... he wanted to say intruder, ... the girl. When I command you, hold her. Disarm her, if need be. Do not harm her if you can help it, but keep her from leaving the house at all costs. Toth, go around the house. Secure all the windows, break the locks closed if you have to. Then join thy brethren in the house. Samuel gripped his staff with both hands, glancing up and down the street. One last person in sight, in a minute or so, they'd turn the corner, and he could act. Be silent, but above all, be swift. Go. As he hissed out his final command, two black forms, like liquid smoke, dropped down out of his coat, and slipped into the shadows, silent as a dead man's breath. Toth, moving with grim, straight-forward efficiency, found only one window that could be used for exit. It slipped inside like a pitch fog, and quickly slammed the window shut and locked it. With a distinct, sharp ping, the latch snapped, jamming the window firmly shut. Nas took far more glee in it's task. It poured under the door, it's grinning, pinched face appearing momentarily as the rest of it's spectral form writhed it's way through, then melted into the shadows again. A mere cold spot, it slipped in near the girl, ogling her with hungry eyes, dreaming of what it would do to her, had it's will not been tethered to that damned necromancer. Nas hoped there would be screaming. Toth, wavering silently on the other side of the elf, merely regarded her with the cold hatred it regaded all things, living, dead, or undead. Samuel pressed the butt of his staff against the door, and forced his will upon it. As a soul bled out of the foul tool, the air grew colder, Samuel's breath came out as mist, frost formed on his knuckles. He could have blasted the door down, but chose a more subtle path, instead weakening the veil between the Mortal domain, and the Underworld, bringing a bit of the other side to this one, and letting the door feel the full brunt of the effects. The metal locks and hinges rusted and grew brittle, their unliving nature not immune to the touch of decay. But it was the wood of the door that suffered the most, withering, splintering, creaking and warping, giving audible cracks as the once strong timbers shriveled into dry-rotted boards.