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I apologize for the delay. I have experienced multiple family deaths (all unrelated to one another) in a short span as well as competing site obligations.

Attention: @Howard White

Vladimir felt Howard’s intent before he saw the movement. That single moment of psychic dissonance, that psychic scream that tried to warn him. Hags, he had captured their scent. The crackle of psychic energy tried, a final desperate moment of a man with a mind and body clashing against one another. Then came the flash of claws.

There was no time to think. Howard's natural weapon tore through the fine vestments Vladimir wore. His ribs screamed, his shirt quickly becoming heavy with blood. This was one of those few moments where he wished his allies were a bit weaker.

Was it instinct or the pain that dictated where he pointed his wand in the end? Howard, the man with a body that was as much a weapon as it was an avatar of will and wand, would be the target of Vladimir's spell. Momentarily overwhelmed by the shifting tide, he tried to restrain Howard. Mercifully, or perhaps devastatingly, he failed. Howard, his ally at heart, but not in action, was free to act again.

The hags lashed out, the three of them. Their cruel laughter muted only by the magic of the muffling magic that was intended to shield clandestine conversations and the chaos of the battle in the ballroom. Vladimir's chest burned where the first of the hag's curses had found its mark. He could feel his pulse, unnaturally strong, too fast, the dhampir in him thrumming with fight instead of flight. The voice of reason, the one that said run, was buried beneath the ancestral roar of Athanatos pride.

“Howard,” he hissed, his tone breaking between a warning and a plea. His wand was already up. Words alone would not be enough to break Howard free, this was a contest of will and it was a battle only Howard White could win.

Howard was not able to stop himself, and while Vladimir knew this. He could hear it in his head, it did not salve the sense of betrayal, as unreasonable as it might have been. He was not going to be able to take the three, no four of them, his hand tightened around the wand in his hand as stubbornness or perhaps a sense of misplaced hope caused him to stand his ground.

He pivot, target one of the hags. Take them alive. Hold them down until others respond. It would have been sound logic if he was the more powerful between them, but he was not. He was outnumbered and while he did not believe it, he was utterly and completely outclassed. Yet, arrogance seemed to lace his incantation repeated with a new target now: "Incarcerous."

Action: Vladimir casts Incarcerous on one of the hags.

I apologize for the delay. I have experienced multiple family deaths (all unrelated to one another) in a short span as well as competing site obligations.

Attention: @Howard White, @Matthew Campbell

Matthew Campbell had chosen self-preservation over stubbornness, idleness or pride. But, there was a thread of something, perhaps humanity, that compelled Matthew to do something and to pick a side. Siding with an Athanatos was probably a mistake, but in the heat of the moment, instinct had chosen a side and for once he picked right.

The Cloister had been damaged, not in this room, one of the few that had been unscathed by S.C.A.R., but Matthew was about to change that. His wand, pointed upward. Where the plaster met molding. Where wooden beams held, or used to. "Reducto!" , a meager spell that was not intended for offensive use.

Wisdom Roll: 12

The plaster would groan, the nails would rip against and through the plaster, creating jagged, claw-like fissures in the plaster. The weight of the unrestrained plaster would fall away, but aim would not be precise. The ceiling came crashing down and Vladimir and Howard would have to dive out of the path of falling plaster and wood.

Evasion DC: Ceiling falling
Vladimir 17 (+15) 32
Howard 3 (+21) 24 Hit
Vaelith 18 (+15) 33
Maerathis 3 (+15) 18 Hit
Nyssagra 18 (+15) 33

Vladimir would dive under the table in the corner of the room as shattering pieces of plaster rained down on him. Two of the three hags would stagger backwards, exiting the space temporarily, before stepping forward once again. The ruined remnants underfoot. Howard and the ginger woman were not so fortunate. Bludgeoned by falling hunks of wood and plaster, that felt more like a strike of a fist than an accident.

The hags laughed. Gods, that laughter... sharp as glass dragged over stone. The blonde one was the next to act. “This was too easy,” they did not even know what they had lost. The laughter resumed but was cut off mid-breath, replaced by a gurgled hum that vibrated the air like the plucking of wet strings. Her long, strangely manicured nails raked the space before her, drawing a half-circle of lightless glyphs that hung like soot.

“Wyrmcall.”

Attack 12 (+20) Hit
Evasion 17 (+15)

The word wasn’t shouted, this dark magic crawled, slipping into Vladimir’s ears and down his spine. The sigils burst, scattering a cloud of cold ash that moved against the wind. It swirled once, then darted toward him with mindless precision.

At first Vladimir would think it was smoke. Then the smoke began to writhe. Tiny shapes separated from the cloud, slick, glistening things like worms carved from obsidian and bone. They landed on his coat and hair, their movement silent but impossibly fast.

One slid down his collar and he felt the cold of it seeping through the fabric, then the sharp sting as it bit. Another scuttled beneath his sleeve, tracing his arm like living frost. Dozens followed, burrowing under his robes, finding every seam, every vulnerability.

Vladimir might try to fight them, to brush them away, but his gloves would only find shifting lumps beneath the skin as the creatures burrowed deeper. Each movement was a tug, a pinch, a whisper of something alive moving where nothing should be. His vision flickered at the edges as his mind filled with their noise, small, wet mouths gnashing in triumph.

Vladimir would stagger, forcing his wand arm steady. But the itch became fire. Every instinct screamed to tear at himself, to claw them out. But he couldn't. Not when Howard's fangs were bared. His periphery fading, Howard would lurch towards Vladimir. His mind still com batting the psychic hold the hags had over him.

Howard, trying to break out.
Roll: 1 (+5)

Howard did not have the greatest mental fortitude. In a universe that believed in balance, for all of his strength, he lacked cleverness and the mental ability to resist their command. He had become a tool, a dangerous fate as he became a puppet on invisible strings.

Howard attempted to bite Vladimir
Attack 20 (+21) critical success
Evasion 7 (+15)

The teeth sank through skin and muscle, into the pulse. The contact was sickeningly intimate, the pull of blood and breath, the taking. Vladimir’s wand clattered from his grip as his knees buckled beneath him. His world spun in dizzying spirals of sound and shadow. For his losses, Howard would feel significant gains. The blood, it was unlike the blood from the popsicles they would be offered to slake their thirst. From the potions and the phials they would consume with droplets of water-down subsidence. He would feel powerful, perhaps a bit guilty and wrong.

Vladimir would pale, his pulse becoming thready. He would of course try to pull himself free, tearing his flesh from his teeth. There was no respite of mercy intended. Bruised, but more than capable, the red witch would attempt to finish the former heir off.

Hag 2: Cast Rasprorus (Similar to Sectumsempra)
Attack 17 (+20)
Evasion 9 (+15)

Without mercy, invisible claws tore at Vladimir. He did not have time to express the pain he felt, already drained by Howard's attack.

Vladimir tried to form a word, Howard’s name, maybe a curse... but it was lost in the blur of his fading consciousness. The world around him fractured, edges blurring into streaks of red and grey. His body hit the ground, limp and unmoving.



The last of them, Nyssagra would simply leave Howard with an instruction. Kill the rest of them, and have some fun with it. Smile a little. Laugh a lot. Drink deep.

Updated Command: Kill the rest of the guests. No specific guests beyond not the hags, the part giant or the strange women just outside. Howard needs to either be incapacitated, knocked out or succeed on a saving throw that has a DC of 15 (would normally be 20 but that is not fair in this context).