CT Quarter Finals: Faustus Defeats Lan

It was late one stormy night, and all throughout the magnificent halls of Alnia Manor, or more famously, The Mansion of Shade, a beautiful, yet somber minuet echoed throughout the decrepit halls. This place was old. Very old. It seemed even the light haunting sounds of a grand piano's notes made the floors creek in detest. They could stand no more. They wished to wither, but alas, like everything else that had ever entered this place of unrest, they could not.

The walls shook against the power of the music, and the wooden floors quaked. There was some power in these notes, and more importantly, the thing that wasn't playing them. Enter the Piano Chamber, a large room, about twenty feet wide, and fifteen feet in length. Even against the pressing darkness, its bright red carpet shown out like blood. The shadows played and intertwined. A shadow so deep it seemed even preternatural, or arcane sight could not pierce it, but there was a reprieve. Two large windows, which looked out at a pale moon let its silvery light shine through, and slayed the darkness that was so comfortable just enough to make unbolstered vision possible.

From them, in the distance lightning crackled, and thunder roared. The rain was almost oppressive, coming down like a monsoon. It's heavy pitter pat was loud enough to still be heard even over the piano's music.

The light played and danced with the darkness. Splotches of shadow were thrown across a far wall, opposite the piano that was playing.... with no body occupying its seat. The shadow on the far wall began to mold and take shape, and play with its alotted moonlight. It was frothing and bubbling, but after just a second, it was clearly the figure of a body. Details could not be made by the plays of a shadow, but it was undoubtedly a man. Hair crept from his skull like snakes, and when the open windows allowed wind to blow them, those tresses seemed likely to strike.

Now slowly, viscously, the form of a physical body began to pour into the piano seat, like how you'd pour water into a glass. First the glimmer of his polished, black shoes came, then his pants, and a peculiar tailcoat so popular among old world pianists. It was all black, save for his tie, whom's color matched something that brought only one word to mind; blood.

White, gloved hands played the minuet with a virtuoso's skill, and a masters speed. All about him the wind seemed the stir and dance to his song, and those old, wretched spirits that found no rest came from all corners of the manor to listen and mourn with the man who had brought them from their loneliness. The room was filled supernatural activity. Ghostly wails accompanied by the piano notes, which now grew in intensity, and continued to grow as more spirits showed up, until there was a tumult surrounding him, praising him. And then he stopped. Suddenly. Abruptly, as did the wailing of the spirits. For he whom Faustus had awaited had come.

Faustus's hand rested snuggly on the hilt of his sword, and a pale fog began to creep and seep out from him, spreading throughout the room, five feet in all directions. It was not particularly otherwordly, but there was an ominous weight to it. 

"Rest easy, my sprites and spirits. He will come."

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Bard Song Enchantment(Spell activation): Not to be confused with necromancy. Faustus charmed the spirits of the manor to come to him. This is a quickdraw, so the spirits will not fight for Faustus, merely follow him. This is a continuous effect. With no preps poured in it will only last three posts, the countdown starting next post. It should be known that anyone who enters the house as the song plays may also be charmed, but to a lesser degree if they are a living creature.

Conjuration(0): Faustus summoned a pall of light mist that can vaguely obscure his body, but not completely hide him from natural, nor arcane sight.

Eyes. He could feel them watching him. Slithering lenses snaking along the back of his neck, and down his spine. Faustus' shoulders shook, like he was trying to literally shake the suffocating rust of the mans preturnatural sight off of him. His hand shook for a brief moment, and then calmed itself as lengthy digits curled mechanically around the hilt of his sword. He flipped the tails of his tailcoat, and positioned himself up from the seat, standing at full stock. He was lithe, but one could tell he was well built underneath that abysmal black suit.

Shadows crept along the floor beneath him. He could hear them. He could smell them. He could see them, but made no inner machenations to their demise. He simply waited for them until they entered the room. Edge was gripped tightly in hand, and just as the shadow beings would find their prey, a light, silver and great that reflected the very light of the moon surrounded and encased Edge's luminary blade, shining out brightly, sending the shadows back to the nothingness from wence they came. Faustus had no real need to destroy them, as shadows in such a lackadaisical form posed no more threat to Faustus than they could a child, but his paranoia, fueled further by insanity forced him to act, and that very insanity had saved his life more than on one occasion.

Insanity sharpened him. He did not think like a healthy minded person, and it was this fact that made him so dangerous. He could not be predicted, because he was unpredictable. If a man could think outside of the box, then Faustus was thinking outside of the warehouse.

He was sure that knocking the metaphysical splotches of shadow would be a disturbance in the force for any man who claimed powers beyond the mundane, much less whom could make use of supernatural powers and abilities. Faustus willingly gave up his position. The fog grew in area and thickness surrounding Faustus' body. It now expanded ten feet in all directions, Faustus merely a shadow within the center. Visible, but the ability to make out any features was put to rest.

Edge found itself back in its onyx scabbard. The spirits writhed in want of his haunting song.

"You have a choice in this," Faustus surely spoke but his lips never moved. For a creature whos mind was developed to a level as Landraal's, he'd surely hear Faustus' psychic words. If not, then he would definately feel their foreboding presence. "Turn around, and walk away. No blood has to be spilled, and your life will be unperturbed. Take the opportunity."

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Bard Song Enchantment(3 turns remaining)

Light

Conjuration[1]: The mist now expanded to ten feet in all directions, and is thicker. Faustus is visibly nothing but a silhouette within.

Answer: The music is no longer playing.