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Sarcantasy 092

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Previously, on Sarcantasywww.deviantart.com/grendelkin/…

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You decide to accept the skull-thing's help and -- something just clicks inside your mind.
This is not an outside force, not truly a separate thing. This is part of you, of your 'natural necromancy' … you feel it.

You don't know how you do what comes next. That is rather the point; what you do is an instinct you suddenly discover lurking at the back of your mind, a wordless impulse beneath conscious thought drawing the power out of your core and out of the air, making it surround you like armour.

It feels like a layer of armour, your own necromancy guarding you against foreign, hostile necromancy. The way it manifests … you suspect that is special, caused by your current condition as a spirit or whatever you are. It probably also has something to do with the way you feel about it now, the way you're thinking about it.

From one moment to another, you are wrapped in armour. Necromancy made manifest, solid as steel, light as a thought, marked with the sign of the Skull.

Nor is it just armour; the power radiates forth from you, and you see the shadow's claw start to bleach and scatter little flakes of darkness as your two powers clash … and its starts to wither and fail. The power courses down your arms and into Grim Death, blending with the blade's own power, turning the shadow-substance gripping it to slop and goo.
You pull it loose almost effortlessly.

"What -- who -- what?!" the shadow hisses as it yanks back its wounded appendage and struggles to refirm its oozing substance. "Who are you? Who sent you?!"

You do not answer. As before, you see your moment. You only need to step into it now, while the shadow is wavering, confused and angry. With the rage of the ghosts thundering through Grim Death, with your own power shielding you and weakening the enemy, you charge and slice…!

There is a sound like rotten cloth tearing, accompanied by a cry that starts too high for your ears to hear, but rapidly descends the tone ladder until it becomes a full-throated shriek of pain and disbelief.

"My cloak! You tore my cloak!" cries the … ghost? … its voice full of dread.


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Date Taken
May 18, 2019, 9:58:00 PM
Published:   |  Mature
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Comments4
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Intensify forward stabby POWAH!

 XD
Grendelkin's avatar
Page 093 is already up. ^_^
HelenMcLaughlinArt's avatar
Excellent! Finish it off then, and we'll be going home for tea. :)