Was there to be no respite for the weary? Cruciatus sighed in exasperation. In his current state, he would not be able to do any sort of fighting without reopening his neck wound. Nonetheless, he shattered the ring and pinky fingers of his left hand, summoning a floating bone cloud around him. Despite being in the middle of the group, getting attacked from above or below was a possibility he was not willing to rule out.

Selren, the Arcanite Archer

He could only see fault in the logic of Darkeye and Aguma, cutting themselves off from those they employed to assist them. But, in hindsight, the great Lord of the Shaodw had never told them protection was part oft heir work. If anyone here was capable of defending themselves in these terrible Isles, it was them, and most likely the lich.

Selren did as he was told when the statue blocked the passage, turning on his heel and breaking into a mad sprint as shadows began to dance along the palms of the shadow mercenary, leaping forth and turning into shadow men. Each step made him feel dizzy, rushed, terrified beyond rational explanation. The world span, and he felt as if the manor were being turned on its side and that he would spill through the glass.

It wasn't. But, spilling through the numerous windows lining the hallway were more and more ghouls. While on the run Selren notched his long oak bow with minor runic enchantments and aimed fr the closest ghoul. The arrow took fight, taking the beast in its eye socket before it could leap from the window sill it was perched on. The arrow managed to knock its target back outside, and immediately the creature was back up and howling like a frenzied demon.

It was back in the window, several feet behind Selren who had fired on another 2 ghouls. They fell, only to get right back up. "If anyone has any suggestions, I'm all ears!" Selren skid to a stop as the doors to the garden flew open. A pair of blood ghouls dropped to all fours, growled something in their undead tongues and charged on all fours like wild animals.

"Any takers?" Selren joked, very, very half-heartedly. "Didn't think so." The roughian notched two archers which quickly tripled to six because of his arcane ability with the bow. The two physical arrows soared forward, one striking a ghoul in the chest, and the other ghoul dodged by leaping on the wall and crawling like a spider. The arcane arrows whistled through the air leaving trails of what looked like purple dust; they bobbed and weaved like leaves in the wind, before all fur found their targets. The wall crawler was pinned to the wall by its neck and left hand.

Still more ghouls broke through the window, entering into mad frenzies for flesh and blood. Most were behind them, screaming, licking their rotten lips with snakish tongues. "Hurry! These Isles aren't gonna be my grave!"

Takuma continued onward, stopping only once as a ghoul jumped from a window in front of him. He quickly began beating it with a series of swift strikes from the handle of his whip, which he used as a nunchuck. He drew his shortsword, chopped it a few times, then stabbed it up through its jaw until the blade protruded from the top of its skull. He pulled the blade out and continued with the others. Aftar the Arcane Archer shot the two blood ghouls, he continued to watch them, especially the one not pinned to the wall, making sure that they wouldn't attack again.

The mercenary woman swept her hand in front of her, sending out a cascade of shadows at the ghouls. They reached out and started to drag them into the thick, black pool of darkness that they created. "My suggestion..." The woman hissed, "Is to keep moving and keep killing until zey are deterred! Go!"

Every time a ghoul was killed by her, the shadows would reach into the ghoul's carcass and regenerate it. It became a thrall under her control that would attack its undead brethren.

Who can withstand against your might? None of them. Push yourself. Gain control. They are yours to command.

"The ground floor is becoming a death trap. I'm thinking the second floor might be slighty better off. We can jump down to the garden from there." Lizzie shouted, once more forced to draw the sword and cleaving through ghoul faces- she only began to realize what it was going to do.

The sword itself radiated a beacon of power again, drawing ghouls to it. Lizzie was quick to notice this, and, against all pretense that she should have her family weapon at all times, called out to Karthus. "Lich! I'm loaning you my sword for a minute! Return it to me when we're outside!"

In faith she tosses the undead beacon to the Deathsinger, hoping he'd catch it. The reason the sword attracted lesser tiers of dead monsters so was that it could grant intelligence, sentience and power to lowly undead- power and dominion over others of their kind. Lizzie was forced to use her baton, the tazing effect of little use- but at least the ghouls would hopefully now make a beeline for their strongest member, jumping over railings and obstacles to reach the promise of transfiguration.

"The stairs are clear! Come on!"

The mercenary woman nodded and ran behind Lizzie, "Let us be moving, fraulein. My children should be able to aid ze lich quite aptly vhile we run. Schnell!"

"I'm right behind you," rasps Cruciatus.

He follows the retreating members of the group as quickly as he can, but due to the nature of the wound he had taken, he begins to fall behind.