Ghosts of the Past

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron lifted his dripping head from the creek and slicked the stray hairs clinging to his face back over the top if his head.  Perhaps his decision to spare his hair and travel with the hood of the habit up had not be the wisest of decisions.  Ah well. The cool water had helped. If it had not been for the presence of Lady Aliset, he might have stripped and taken a quick dip.

Or more to the point, Sir Washburn would not have approved of the waste of time.  They had made excellent progress today; Darcy appreciated that in spite of the need for haste, the knight had kept the needs of both their group and the horses in mind.  Lady Aliset had no trouble keeping up, which did not surprise Darcy.  The lady had given him no reason to think he was not a capable young lord on the way to Culdi.  The only thing Darcy had thought odd was that the young man did not carry a sword.  Now it made sense.

Sir Washburn and Lady Aliset were far enough away that Darcy could not hear what they were conferring about.  Judging from the serious looks on their faces, whatever it was caused them concern.  If it was causing them concern, he would learn about it soon enough.

Darcy rose from his position by the edge of the creek and moved to his horse to check the girth of his saddle.  Whatever the concern was, he hoped it did not lead to more uncomfortable surprises.

[revanne]

Father Columcil looked at Darcy and his conscience pricked him. He should not have responded as he did to an admittedly stupid act on the other's part. Carry on like this and he would have penances to last until Christmas the next time he made his confession. Well that was his problem; what was all their problems was the sense of menace that he felt all around them. He had best make his peace with Darcy and save his anger, and his staff, for those who wished the young heir to Caer Mariot ill.

He was about to approach Darcy when he saw Aliset and the young lord who had taken command talking seriously together and the latter touch his pouch. That damned amulet, he had felt its malevolence from the moment he had inadvertently touched it. It needed to be destroyed, but how? If he were at home he would say the words of exorcism over it, throw it into St Melangell's Well and leave it to the Saints and Powers of heaven to deal with. Well he could offer his prayers and what power he had, untrained though he was. At the least he could offer to ward the area (dice roll 4+6 77thr863x0) while the more experienced Deryni dealt with the amulet.

As Aliset walked away from Washburn Columcil approached the young lord. Bowing respectfully he spoke in a low voice. "My lord, might I have a word?" Washburn retained the courtesy that had been bred into him but replied brusquely. "Sorry, father, but can't it wait?" "I dinna think so" was the firm but still respectful reply. Sighing Washburn drew the priest further aside and nodded at him to continue. "It's yon amulet - it breathes evil. I canna help ye destroy it, but I'm thinking that I could ward the two of ye," he glanced quickly towards Aliset, "while ye destroy the cursed thing."

"You could do that?"

"Aye. I've little training but it's common enough in the Borders. I wish I knew more of such things as the other..."

"You and me both!" broke in Washburn, though he felt relieved that he and Aliset would not need to expend more of their precious energy on warding "I have, thank God, little experience when it comes to things so full of menace. I could do with my uncle of Rhemuth here, he would know how to deal."

"Your uncle, my lord?"

"Well, he's not truly that but he and my father were as close as brothers and he has always been as good as an uncle to me."

Suddenly light dawned for Columcil. He knew now that Blazon hidden under the monk's habit. This must be Duke Alaric's youngest son. No surprise then that he bore an aura of command. And some sort of kin to himself, though best not to think on that. He caught the other's glance then bowed deeply, "Your pardon, my lord, for failing to know you."

Washburn hesitated for just an instance. There had been something in the flash of the other's amber eyes that jogged at his own memory but then it was gone. "No matter, This is no time for ceremony, but I thank you for your offer of warding and if you could say some prayers too I'm sure that would be of benefit to us all."

[Laurna]

"Oh dear Lord! Have I been so reminiscent in my duties as to have never introduced myself to you?" It had been near on two full days. "Oh Father... I beg forgiveness. Here you have been following me blindly into this unknown."

It struck Wash with some amazement. "I humbly stand before you as Sir Washburn Morgan, youngest sibling to the Duke of Corwyn. I believe you will already know that my family is Deryni and that you are acquainted yourself with those talents." Wash gave a wide grin and a courtiers flourished bow, which may have appeared a little awkward while donned in a monk's robe. This only brought out more of a smile upon his lips. "I am at the service of yonder heir to De Moriat at this moment. I hope you are not regretting your entry into our small party."

Father Culomcil seemed somewhat relieved and perhaps a little less standoffish toward the younger lord.

"I gladly will take your offer to help ward us. We may split the duty all three of us in the manor of the old ritual ways, and then all three of us use our talents to destroy this thing.” Wash was ever grateful for the priest offer. “Having the Lord’s guiding hand on our side in this will be a blessing.”

“Ah now, take a moment to refresh. Lord Trillick gave me a substantial number of meat rolls and bread to get me through my quest. It should feed the four of us through to tonight." Wash pulled the saddle bag off his saddle and handed it to priest. "Let me confer a moment more with Lady Aliset before we make our final discussion on what to do with this nasty trinket I carry.”

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron watched the hurried conference between Sir Washburn and Father Columcil with interest.  It had ended with Sir Washburn bowing to the priest with a flourish ill-suited to the monk’s habit he wore. Whatever had that been all about?

Something was afoot, and Darcy was annoyed that his companions did not share the matter with him, whatever it was.  He certainly thought he had coped well enough with what had transpired so far that they need not fear he would run screaming into the night the next time something occurred that hinted of magic. 

Father Columcil approached with the knight’s saddle bag.  “Master Darcy!  Lord Trillick has sent provisions for our journey.  We will dine better than I thought we might on savoury meat rolls.”

“Sir Washburn does not intend to leave immediately?” Darcy asked, hoping the priest might reveal some of what had transpired earlier.

“I believe we will tarry a bit longer,” Father Columcil replied, eyeing Darcy carefully. “We have a bit of nasty business to take care of first.”

Darcy felt his stomach churn.

[revanne]

A man dressed in the coarse woollen cloth of a serving man entered the main room of the Rose and Crown Inn in Culdi. Though it was past the hour of Compline men worked late in these long summer days and there were plenty still slaking their thirst after a long day's toil. He edged his way to the bar and ordered a draught of ale then asked in a quiet voice if he might have a word with the landlord. The barmaid looked him up and down as though little impressed with what she saw but such impertinent requests were clearly not a novelty since she replied equally softly, "And what gives the likes o'you the right to demand speech wi'the master?"

"I've summat to gi'e 'im, 'im alone" So saying he palmed a folded piece of parchment from the breast of his jerkin, though the stylised letter "M" inscribed carefully in one corner he kept hidden.

The barmaid knew her part well and raising her voice grumbled, "Well it's taken yer long enough to pay yer debts but 'imself never says nay to good coin, however late. You'd best follow me."

She led the way through a small parlour and out into a back room where she bobbed a curtsey. "Man to see you, Master." Job done, she bobbed again and returned to the bar, glad enough of a good job in an orderly house, where her master would abide no abuse of his serving maids, to ask no questions.

The Landlord looked up from his meal a question in his eyes. The serving man tugged at his forelock and murmured, 'From Father Llewel at Trillshire, Sir."

The other reached out his hand and took the folded parchment, then reached into his pouch and handed over a coin in return.

"You've a bed for the night?"

"Aye, Sir. Kin in these parts."

""Well be off with you then, but have another drink first to play your part well. And thank Father Llewel for me."

Later that night a cloaked messenger took the same message to a darkened house elsewhere in Culdi.  The recipient took the paper, thanked the messenger with the usual coin and waited until the door was shut before reading it and committing it to memory. Then he went into a inner room,  and carefully locked the door behind him before equally carefully setting wards. He blew out the candle he had brought wirh him and opened his hand to release a ball of silver handfire. Then he unlocked the chest which stood in one corner of the room and withdrew an amber coloured stone. He murmured a few words to himself then allowed his gaze to focus on the light which burned within the Shiral until that gaze was caught and held.(dice roll 5+4 =9 3kbfn8dhsj)

"My Lord Duke. I have news for you." The tongue in which he spoke, and in which the Grand Duke replied was not that of Gwynedd, nor yet that of Meara, though the bearer of tidings could pass for a native of both those lands.

[Evie]

Aliset favored Darcy with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.  Given that she was wearing Alister's features, there was some danger it might turn out to be his "charm the milkmaids into the hayloft" smile instead, which might be more likely to spook the poor man, though probably not any more so than he already appeared to be by the good Father Columcil's dire portents.

"Master Darcy, if you be so kind as to lend us your assistance with the task we are planning, that might help expedite matters.  But only if you are willing; we wouldn't wish to impose on you for anything that falls outside your realm of comfort, since Deryni magic would be involved."

"Magic?" Her man-at-arms looked startled. "I really don't know how I could assist with that!  Did you just want me to stand guard while you . . .um . . .  do whatever it is you're planning to do?"

"If that's how you would prefer to help us, I suppose you could, although what Father Columcil is doing should serve as protection enough for the moment," Aliset said, glancing beyond him to where the priest was walking the boundary of a protective circle around them all, using a form of Border warding very similar to what she had done the night before.  Darcy looked somewhat wary but thus far not inclined to bolt, which was just as well since at that moment Columcil had finished walking the circle for the third time and a faintly shimmering dome of energy rose up around them.  She nodded in satisfaction. "I hadn't wanted to speak aloud what we planned until that ward was up, and venturing into your mind to Mind-Speak to you privately seemed discourteous and intrusive, although I trust you wouldn't object to me doing so if an urgent need ever arises?" She smiled questioningly at him.  "This is about that amulet we took from the man who was following us last night. As I'm sure you've guessed, it is a magic item. Sir Washburn and I . . . ." She glanced over at the knight briefly before returning her attention to Darcy and continuing. "We believe it linked that man to whoever it was who ordered him to follow us. That would be someone besides my cousin Oswald, most likely, since Oswald is not a Deryni, but whoever that man's master was is almost certainly a Mearan separatist.  We need to see if we can determine who that person is.  And just as importantly, we need to destroy that amulet so that its creator can't continue to use it. It can be used to track us, and possibly for other purposes as well.  There is an evil taint on it. Perhaps you have even sensed it, despite being human, for such objects can make others uneasy even if they are unaccustomed to working with magic."

Darcy nodded slowly. "I agree we ought to get rid of the thing. But since, as you point out, I don't do magic and don't even have much familiarity with it, how can I be useful?"

Aliset drew a steady breath. Here came the tricky bit.  Hopefully she could ease him into the idea gently.  "Well, what we would do is form a circle--or I suppose more accurately, I should say sit at the four compass points within this circle of protection Father Columcil has just erected around us--with the amulet at our center.  We would hold hands and focus our concentration on the amulet, and that's something you're able to do even with purely human faculties. Then one of our number--perhaps Sir Washburn, if he has more training in this sort of thing than I do--or myself, if he'd rather, will draw upon that combined focus and the energy of the others in the circle to draw the power needed to Read what we need to discover from the object and then destroy it. Again, you needed be Deryni yourself to serve in that way. It shouldn't hurt you, although it might make you feel tired after a bit, and possibly even sleepy. For that matter, it can affect Deryni in the same way." She glanced at Sir Washburn again. "I think that's the extent of involvement we would need from you, Master Darcy.  The more who are joined together in this undertaking, the greater chance we have of it succeeding. Sir Washburn and I might need to join our minds and wills together for this to work, and Father Columcil as well, if he feels comfortable lending his skills to ours in this.  We needn't link with your mind except for the shallowest amount of rapport needed simply to draw upon your strength to combine with our own for this working."  She smiled as winsomely as she could. "Would you be willing to trust us in this, Master Darcy?"

[Laurna]

Washburn looked appreciatively at the silver dome over their heads. A good ward with a positive feel, almost a familiar feel about it. Magic often touched the senses like the flavor of a good wine, something that touched both taste or smell; actually magic often touched all of the senses at once, gaining individuality from the one who wielded the magic. This ward felt like... family. Weird. Perhaps it was just because the hands that drew it were a priest’s hands, Wash decided.

“Thank you, Father Colmucil, nicely done. Though I dare say you look tired. Perhaps you should sit for a moment before we begin.” Washburn put out a hand to help the priest sit on the near log. Columcil avoided his hand as he sat. Wash accepted that they were too newly acquainted for such familiarity.

“May I ask if you have a vial of holy water upon you? It would be of great use for what Lady Aliset has in mind.” The priest noded that he had this with him. He pulled forth from under his monk’s robe a round gold flask the length of a man’s palm which hung from a chain off his belt. The relief of two fish swimming head to tail was inscribed around the body of the small flask with an enameled cross on the neck.

“Will this be enough?” the priest asked.

“Aye, Father, It will be perfect.” Wash replied. He took the flask and then pulled the pouch from his own belt, noting that the shape of the amulet was still within the fabric. He laid the two items on the ground in the center of the warding. With a glance toward the South, he saw Master Darcy eyeing his every move. “Master Darcy, I thank you for your courage. I promise we will protect you from what we do.” was all he could think to say to the seaman.

He then nodded to Lady Aliset that she should take the lead in the east. As she passed him their hands met. I will let you lead in scrying out our adversary. He sent in Mind Speech not wishing to frighten the others more than need be. Know that I am behind you with whatever you require of me.  I have some knowledge in destroying a relic, so I can take that portion of this when you need me too. The Rapport between them, though still tentative, was becoming more familiar and accepting. Wash stepped away pleased. His off-hand pulled an ivory handled dagger from under the robe at his side. He placed the dagger on the ground next to the other two items. Given the right resonance of their counter spell, a Jerraman crystal could be shattered with the point of a heavenly-blessed blade. Thus, what they would attempt would require a hand of blessing.

Some level of Rapport with the good Father would therefore be helpful. Washburn returned to the priest’s side.  “Father Columcil, would you be willing to except replenishment of your energy from me?” he asked quietly. He held his fingers just above the priests wrists, not touching. “Rapport need only be of the shallowest, but as I would ask you to stand in the West for Saint Gabriel, Lady Aliset will stand in the East for Saint Raphael, and as I will stand in the North, there must be some small level of connection between us. Would that we test the limits of Rapport before we begin?”

 Washburn’s hand turned palm up, his shields dropping away, waiting upon the priest to choose whether or not to make the next move.

[Jerusha]

Darcy Cameron took a deep, steadying breath.  “Aye, my Lord, I will trust you in this.  I gave you my word to see you safely to Rhemuth.  If this is necessary to fulfil that promise, so be it.”

He realised he would be trusting all three of the Deryni is this small party. It unnerved him a bit, but he had learned to trust a good crew in the stormy Northern Sea, and from what he had seen so far, they were a good crew.  And he had trusted his Deryni Quartermaster, at least as much as he had ever trusted anyone.

He was also sure that Lord Alister/Lady Aliset was giving him only the barest of details to reassure him of his safety.  Not that he had never done the same for young cabin boys on their first voyage.  It had been many years since he had been a young cabin boy, but suddenly he felt like one again!

Darcy gave himself a mental shake and, with a hurried but sincere prayer to Saint Nicholas, stood resolutely in his position at the south.  When the time came, he joined his calloused hand to the smoother hand offered by Lord Alister.

[revanne]

The young lord stood before Columcil in an attitude of openess, almost supplication. Columcil knew that he must respond, knew that there was no real choice. To refuse would be to invite questions which he had no desire to answer. Besides to refuse his aid in destroying such a manifestly evil thing as the amulet would be an act akin to apostasy. He was a priest and as such he was called to fight evil wherever he found it. Quite simply, though, he was afraid. He had already seen Sir Washburn eyeing the circle of protection he had created as though it had struck a chord of recognition. Would entering into rapport reveal their kinship, the kinship which he was under oath not to reveal?

Suddenly his border common sense reasserted itself. Destroying the amulet would take all their energies and a noble knight such as Sir Washburn would be far too honourable to go probing in anither's mind. He must simply offer himself to do what was right and leave the consequences to God.

Bowing slightly he replied to Sir Washburn, hoping that his hesitation would be put down to an unfamiliarity with formal ritual magic."Thank you, my Lord, I'd be glad of some strength from ye, and I would be honoured to serve as you direct. I simply ask that after we are done you permit me to celebrate Mass here, to ensure no trace of yon devil's work can linger around us." Seeing the other's hesitancy and understanding the reason for it he added. 'It willna take long - no longer than it took for Our Lord to share bread and wine when he too had been betrayed."

Without waiting for an answer he looked down to where Sir Washburn held his hand outstretched then slowly raised his own hand to make contact, lowering his own shields as he did so and looking the orher dieectly in the eye.

[Laurna]

The touch of two hands was so much more than what it appeared. It opened a bridge for two minds, though hesitant they both were, at the openness to one another. It was a smooth passage that opened. Again a feeling of familiarity passed through Wash. As if he we were with Uncle Duncan. Wash did not understand it, You must have trained with Father Duncan McLain at some time in your youth. He sent across the link with a smile. He also sent across the link a little of himself; His love for his family: his brother and sisters and their children, his mother and the special love for the father he had lost long ago. Also there was his love for his King, a loyalty he would never break.

The good father shared just a touch of what his love of faith meant to him. That was a great deal to share with a man he did not know well. Wash respected him for at least opening that much. Then Wash shared what he and Aliset planed to do. They would need the good Father to bless the dagger and at just the right moment to add his strength to theirs when it came time to destroy the jem at the center of the amulet.  And of course, he would have what time he needed to perform Mass when all was done.

Be kind to Darcy if more strength becomes necessary and we must pull from him. It would be horrible if what we do frightens him into hating Deryni.  We must be cautious to not mishandled his trust. Wash sent  with Mind Speech to both Aliset and to Columcil.

[Evie]

Aliset took her place in the East facing the priest, tucking one slender hand in the knight's larger one and her other hand in Master Darcy's. In her family's circle, she had normally been the person to take up the Western position, but otherwise this posture felt reassuringly familiar, and she relaxed into the comfort of that familiarity as she settled into position and allowed her eyes to drift half shut, focusing most of her attention on the amulet at their center. She left it covered, fearing that if she viewed it directly, its master would also be able to see them clearly. But she did not need her physical senses to See and Feel its malevolent presence before her.

When she felt ready, she lowered her shields to her companions, reaching out with her mind to the two on either side of her.  On Wash's side she encountered the expected touch of shields, which melted away at her psychic touch of them, allowing her access.  With a satisfied smile, she reached out to pull Darcy into the shallow link.

Startled astonishment as her mind encountered unexpected resistance broke her focus. With a surprised glance in the sailor's direction, she blurted, "Master Darcy, are you aware that you have shields?"

[Jerusha]

“What?” Darcy Cameron started at the sharp question.  “Shields?  No, my Lord.  I have my sword, a couple of throwing knives, and a sling to bring down the occasional coney, but I’ve got no shield.”

Aliset looked into the ice blue eyes and stated firmly, “You have shields, Master Darcy,” she said, emphasizing the plural.  “Deryni shields.”

“Perhaps from travelling with us this period of time,” Washburn suggested.  “Humans can develop shields.”  He thought of his distance ancestor, Sir Kenneth Morgan, who was rumoured to have developed shields through his close association with his wife, the lady Alyce de Corwyn.

“No,” Aiiset said. “I think these are his own.”

“But how?” Darcy asked.  “I’m no Deryni!”

The memory came to Darcy unbidden.  His back was afire, burning pain that would not subside.  He had been impertinent, or rather, refused to be belittled, by one of the deck hands, a surly man at best and dangerous at worst.  The ordered punishment had been ten lashes before the crew.  But the deck hand with the lash had a grudge against pale blond cabin boy, who was a bit too clever for his own good.  Ten lashes became fifteen, hard and deep.
 
The Quartermaster had taken Darcy to his own bunk, settled him carefully on his stomach and held the bedpan until Darcy stopped retching.  “Easy now,” he had said.  He had laid his hand on Darcy’s shoulder.  “Well, you are the surprise.  Nice little shields, you have.”

Darcy had looked at him, but could barely follow his words due to the pain.

“Now I need you to do something for me,” the Quartermaster had said.  “Think of rolling waves, waves rolling back to the shore.  Roll your mind back with them, and those little barriers that are in the way…..”

Somehow the pain had gone away and Darcy had slept until the next day.

“Master Darcy?” Aliset said carefully, trying to bring the man beside her back from whatever memory had claimed his attention.

“I,” Darcy began.  “It’s a story for another time.  Are they, if I have them, are they in the way of what you need to do?”

“Yes. Can you roll them back?”

Darcy sighed.  “I’m not sure, but I can try.”

(dice role, 1 dice at a disadvantage:  1  verification 53n56830bt. Drat.)

Darcy imagined the rolling waves, rolling back to the shore, but they seemed to crash against a barrier he could not overcome.  Perhaps he was too tense, or maybe he had never been able to do it before.

“My Lord,” Darcy said, the frustration on his face clearly evident.  “I fear I have failed you.”

[Evie]

"No, no!" Aliset hastened to reassure her man-at-arms. "It's quite understandable. It's something I'm certain you've never tried to do before, at least not consciously, and this is hardly the best of circumstances for a first attempt. Perhaps, if you desire to learn how to control them, we can try again later.  For now, though, we can try another way to lower them. Perhaps if you were asleep, or even just sleepy, your shields will simply roll back on their own.  Would you be willing to let me try something?"

At Darcy's hesitant nod, Aliset smiled and fished a small medallion out of her tunic. "This is a Saint Camber medallion," she told him, dangling the pendant before his eyes.  As it caught his gaze, she slowly began to swing it back and forth, back and forth.  "Just watch the movement and try to clear your mind of all conscious thought. Let your world narrow down to naught but the motion of the pendant...."  As she spoke, she lowered her voice, pitching it to an intimate tone barely audible to the others in the circle.  "Now let's see if I can be of assistance," she said as she gently touched one finger to his forehead, flicking it softly with her fingertip as if brushing back an invisible curtain.

((Dice rolls 2 and 6, v# 4gl7ppk9sq))

"Ah, there we go!" Aliset beamed at Darcy as his eyes widened with surprise as her psychic touch brushed his mind.  "I'll teach you how to have more conscious control over those later, if you'd like.  But for now, we've other work to do."

Returning her focus to the covered amulet in their midst, she stared at it for a long moment before turning the saint's medallion she still held in her hand to reveal a polished surface on its reverse side.  Holding it in her cupped hand just above the amulet, she transferred her gaze to the mirror-like metal surface, gazing into it intently while drawing upon the energies of her companions for added strength and focus.  ""Let us see who wrought thee, instrument of evil," she murmured softly.

((Rolled 1d6 to increase difficulty because Valerian would not have made it easy to track the amulet back to himself. Rolled a 6!  V#68pk7lz3ng))

In the polished metal oval, a reflected likeness began to form....



Aliset had never seen the man before, but pouring the fullness of her concentration upon the reflection, she whispered, "Who are you?"

((Another 1d6 roll, rolled a 5!  V#51rnx3nsfg.  Thanks for refilling the dice roller, Jerusha!  ))

The answer came not in words, but in a series of scenes rapidly playing out before their eyes.  A hot clime, a majestic city in the Eastern style.  A palatial mansion that spoke of wealth and elegance. A long journey from faraway lands. A Portal hop from an unfamiliar place to one much more familiar, no more than a day's journey distant. Furtive meetings with a series of others, most unfamiliar to Aliset, although she detected Oswald's despised features among them. And central to one scene, a beautiful young woman seated on what appeared to be a throne.

Aliset sent a silent question through her link to Washburn, wondering if he recognized the man in the vision. She decided to make one more attempt to find out the mysterious Deryni's identity, although even as she pondered how long she could compel the amulet to reveal its information, she could feel its protections growing stronger.  "What is your name?" she ventured, hoping she could elicit at least that much more while her spell held.

((1d6, rolled a 2. V#5z767dfmq3))

Alas, even as she asked the question, she could feel her control over the amulet slip away. Conserving what was left of her psychic strength to aid Sir Washburn in what he must do next, she squeezed his hand, conveying silently that she was too spent to continue further along those lines and that it was time for him to take over.

[Laurna]

Washburn gave Aliset's hand a firm squeeze, sending her reassurance even as he released her fingers. He bent down quickly, scooping up both dagger and the chain that suspended the vessel of holy water. The small flask, he did not touch. Fear seized him that his sullied hands would mar the precious gift that the gold flask held within. He was quick to give the chain into the hand of the priest. The hand which until that moment had been joined with his. In that instant, Columcil took back that which was his. There was no pleasure in his look at the knight, only concern. Had Washburn somehow offended him?

"Father,  I require your blessing." Wash held the dagger by the blade, hilt out flat toward Columcil. "Please! Bless the device which I must use to channel good and defeat that which seeks to find us. For I fear this amulet, even while we are thusly protected by your ward."

Washburn saw the small hesitation in the priest's eyes. He dropped to one knee. "Please, we daren't wait too long,"

The spell's of the Jerraman crystal had been wakened.  Its power was building, waiting for the moment it could see the light, the moment it could subjugate whoever it could capture with in its sphere of influence.

The counterspell Wash had chosen was already whispered words upon his lips. ((1d6 disadvantage 4 Verification Number: 6tctmzvmn9)) The counter spell was failing without the blessing Wash was certain that he required.

Focus... he must find a focal point...

[revanne]

Columcil saw the desperation in the young man's eyes and at that point he simply became a soul in need. Anything else could wait. Crossing himself fervently, he unstoppered the vial of holy water. Pouring a little into his cupped left hand and holding his right over it,  he beseeched the blessing of heaven, reiterating his prayers to the four powers that he had invoked in his warding, speaking with a loud clear voice so that all present might take strength from his prayers. "Saint Gabriel fill this holy water with the cleansing powers of heaven; Saint Raphael bring your winds of healing to cleanse us, and this place, of all evil; Saint Uriel we beg that it may be only evil that is done to death in this place."

He paused for a moment and dipping the thumb of his right hand in the water he marked the cross on Washburn's forehead and then spoke spoke urgently to him.  "Sign yourself with your dagger then place the tip in the water in my hand and make the sign of the cross there too. I will then cast the water over the amulet and you must strike." As Washburn began to obey Columcil continued with his prayer. "Saint Michael, grant that this blade may have all the power of the holy blade with which you subdue the enemy of us all."

The blessing completed Columcil cast the holy water over the amulet and Wash plunged his dagger through its centre (dice roll for advantage ((Columcil believes in the power of prayer)) 5+1+2 = 8 verification 3chtkbp3z7). There was the sound of something breaking violently, far louder than the mere physical destruction of the amulet warranted, and a feeling of uncontrolled anger. Then nothing. That could not last though, the amulet's master knew where they were and he was assuredly a highly trained and powerful Deryni and there could be no doubting his evil intent. This was outside Columcil's experience but the fight against evil was not.

He had been careful to bring the elements for mass within the warded circle and dropping to his knees he motioned to the others to do so as he began the words of consecration. He could apologise for his high handedness later.