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Rossalyn lifted the last box off the rug and set it on the couch. She'd nearly finished unpacking the contents of her small shop; moving an extensive collection of books from Earth to Khazan was no easy task, as she'd found. She wiped the books off with an old dust cloth and shelved them in the oak cases lining her walls. Witch's Moon, Twelve Ghosts of Scotland's Castles, Vampyres and Vampyrism Revisited, Phantasms and Darkshades. Ross paused, holding the last book. It had been so long ago, really, though she remembered him as though it had been yesterday . . . Several years ago . . . Rossalyn was tidying up her shop, waiting for her uncle to arrive. He was supposed to come by, to look for a certain book on phantasms. He hadn't been sure of the title, and she was busily collecting various possibilities and setting them on her desk in front. She heard a tap on her door, and clattered down the ladder she'd been using. 'Come in,' she called, wondering who would want her at such an hour, when she was closed till three most days to keep up with her mail-order business. It didn't feel like her uncle, and besides, the knock was wrong. She hurried up to the desk, only to stop in surprise. The man there, who towered nearly a foot above her own height, wore a long black cloak with a hood, and several expensive-looking rings. His skin was dark but his long hair completely white, from what she could see beneath the cloak. 'You have a copy of the Christophaelin?' the man demanded abruptly. Rossalyn gaped for a moment. 'Er, have it I don't, sir,' she said, which was a lie. She did, in the back, but she'd a bad feeling about the man. 'Heard of it I have, of course, most have, but I'm afraid I cannot be helping you.' Ross wondered who on earth the man could be. She turned to go back to the shelves, but the man stepped forward, blocking her path to the door. 'You lie!' he shouted. She told him, a bit more firmly, 'Sorry I am for it, sir, but I cannot help you.' He threw back his hood, to reveal glazed, pale blue eyes. 'Tell me now, child, or you'll regret it.' Rossalyn felt a faint pressure in the back of her head as his eyes glowed blue. There was a sudden flash of light, and the man cursed. He started chanting wildly in what Rossalyn guessed was a corrupted form of Greek, and blue light gathered around him. A white fire began gathering at the man's fingers, and Ross edged away from her books and the more expensive furniture. She pressed back against the wall, her breath loud in her own ears. She couldn't get past him to the door, she knew, and yet she had no other way out. Ross flinched away as the sorcerer gathered his magic. His face pinched in rage, he fired blast after blast of mage-fire at her. Ross tried to press herself into a corner, praying that she'd live and her books would be unharmed. And that her uncle would arrive soon. . . Chakos ran down the street, towards the flashes of blue light coming from the tiny bookstore. He arrived in time to see a mad sorcerer blasting a hole in the wall next to a frightened girl. 'Uncle Chakos!' The sorcerer turned, prepared to blast Chakos. Before he could cast the spell, Chakos muttered something and threw a dagger at him, which hit squarely in his chest. There was a flash of yellowish light, and the sorcerer was gone. Chakos bent over his niece. 'You hurt, Lyn?' He helped her up. 'No, uncle,' she said, sounding only a little shaken. 'Glad I am you came,' she added. He nodded. 'What was Vylhein after?' 'That was his name?' she asked, as she led the way to the back room. She moved aside a bookcase to reveal a cabinet behind it. 'Yeah, he's an old one. Sorcerer, caused trouble a few years ago.' Rossalyn took down the Christophaelin and handed it to him. 'He wanted this, but trust him with it I would not.' Chakos leafed through the volume and raised his eyebrows. 'Army of the dead, eh? Good thing you didn't.' He handed it back. 'Probably should put that somewhere safe, in case Vylhein shows up again. I don't think he will, though; that cut must have hurt.' She took the book and locked it in the chest she kept for her rarest volumes. 'He'll not get it from here.' She redid the latch, and the box clicked shut, locked. 'And grateful I am for your help, Uncle Chakos. Ye will stay to lunch?' Chakos nodded. 'And you're welcome.' During lunch, which his niece made over the small fire in her back room, Chakos thought things over. He had wished for back-up, once or twice, but would never trust to the safety of a partner. His own abilities protected him, but an ordinary person would be too vulnerable, and he refused to take that risk. Rossalyn seemed to have inherited many of his own talents, though, and she had a very good knowledge of myths and lore. She'd wanted a more interesting job for some time, as her small bookstore was mostly run by post. He decided; he would ask.
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Immunity: Eldrich Blast
 Immunity: Standard
Rossalyn had done a bit of research when the ghost wouldn't be put down in the normal manner. 'Aye, uncle, tis most likely the ghost of James Athenry Longton, the lord of the estate. He was murdered over the family jewels, when a gang of robbers attempted to make off with them. The jewels have been missing since.' Chakos said, 'Sounds like it fits. The jewels might be the key.' Ross nodded. 'Indeed, uncle, and see you the possible chambers?' There were stories of hidden rooms in Longton manor, and she'd found an old floor plan and pinpointed three likely places. One was right where the ghost appeared. . . Chakos stood by the door. 'Don't worry, Lyn, you'll be fine if you're careful.' He threw the door open and stepped inside. Silence. They had come to the stairs when the ghost appeared again, wailing in heavily accented Gaelic. He threw ethereal fire at them when they tried to pass, but merely succeeded in scorching the walls. Chakos groaned; the room was a mess, one wall collapsed and part of the ceiling fallen through. 'Looks like I have to dig. Lyn, keep him distracted, will you?' Though they were both unaffected by eldritch fire, he had no desire to have a load of bricks dropped on his head from a ghostly blast. 'Yes, Uncle,' she said, wondering how one distracts a ghost. 'Er, sir,' she said tentatively to the ghost, 'could ye speak English please? My Gaelic is not very good.' The ghost quieted and eyed her sternly. 'Then ye're nae kith nor kin o' the Longtons, lassie! What be ye doin' hereabouts?' he said, in barely intelligible English. Lyn wondered what to say. 'We're here at the request of Sir Fitzwilliam, your descendant.' He'd hired them to rid the mansion of its ancient ghost so he could live there, but she wasn't going to mention that to the ghost. To her surprise the ghost laughed hollowly. 'Ye mistake me, lass. I'm nae kin to the lad. I am the spirit of Thomas the bootblack.' Ross understood suddenly, and gaped. Chakos motioned her on from beneath a cloud of dust. 'Then you were the one who hid the jewels!' The ghost nodded sadly, 'Aye. Failed I did, died afore I could return them to the family. A pox upon my head!' She said hastily, 'But the account says you died defending Lady Longton. Surely you could do no more than that?' 'Thankye, lass. But cursed I am, till the jewels return to the Longton kin, cursed, cursed.' There was a crashing noise, and a pile of plaster rained down on Chakos. He'd gotten to the fireplace at last, and from behind the panelling he removed a small box. Ross, watching him, told Thomas, 'Then if restore the jewels to their owner we must, you could leave?' The ghost nodded. 'Aye, lass. Ye will, then?' He glared at her. 'And I may add if ye dinnae, as the gentleman in the corner has found them at last, I shall haunt ye forever!' She promised, 'Aye, we will.'. . . And indeed, that was the end of the ghost. Chakos and Rossalyn returned the gems to their owner, with a surprise appearance by Thomas, who instructed Sir Fitzwilliam to use them well and sparingly. Thomas never appeared again, and they were awarded a sapphire for their efforts.
Sensibility
 Environmental Awareness: Superior
Rossalyn looked out at the dreary forest and saw nothing, merely a lot of trees. She had a bad feeling, though; the dark and silence made her uneasy. Ross looked at her uncle nervously, wishing he was paying more attention. She had never fought a werewolf before, though she had studied stories about them. Yet, she couldn't guess what the werewolf would do when they found him, or possibly when it found them. She felt a creeping in her spine, and looked about. She still couldn't see anything, as it was a dark and moonless night, and the forest masked the bit of light from their lantern. Chakos, meanwhile, looked lost in thought. If he'd known what the tiny village inn would be like, he'd have turned down their job. He thought he was beginning to catch cold, and would rather be even in his dank room, with a drink, rather then out in a damp forest after what was said to be a very mild sort of werewolf. 'Uncle, feel something just then, did you?' Chakos shook himself out of his thoughts. 'No, nothing. We'll keep an eye out for a while longer and see what happens, though.' 'Yes, Uncle Chakos.' Rossalyn still felt nervous, as she'd not trust to the wolf's harmlessness. Ross sighed, her breath swirling into frosty patterns in the air. She still could discern something, on the edge of her senses, but knew no more than that. There was a rustling from the trees, and both Ross and Chakos jumped. Then Chakos chuckled quietly and pointed to an enormous crow perched on a nearby evergreen. Ross shivered but relaxed a bit, when she suddenly felt a twitch. 'Uncle!' she cried, throwing herself against him. She couldn't move him very far, but far enough so that the werewolf, jumping down a second later with bared claws, missed them both. It instead rammed a shoulder into Ross's back, sending her flying. She hit a tree with a thud, as Chakos landed in a roll and drew out a crossbow with a silver bolt. He fired at the werewolf and hit its heart. The werewolf howled, and then exploded in black flame. 'Nice go, Lyn,' Chakos remarked as Ross picked herself up from the ground. Above them, the crow flew off, into the woods.
Heirloom
 Teleportation: Ultimate
The lantern's light flickered dully against the cavern walls. 'I don't see anything suspicious,' Chakos said, glancing around. 'I guess we'll have to head in further to see anything; too dark now.' Ross nodded, holding her own lantern in front of her. 'The driag would be in the back, they said, Uncle,' she reminded him. They passed through a few icy tunnels till they reached the back of the caves, and the nest. It was far bigger than they'd expected, spanning sixty feet, and it was strewn with bits of treasure, bodies, and bits and pieces of things, in among the hay. Ross said worriedly, 'A big nest it is for our driag, Uncle.' He replied, 'It's possible another dragon was here once, and the new one took over the nest. That, or the mayor was lying about the thing being five feet, which would explain the high pay.' She shook her head. 'No driag would stay in another's den, for fear.' She held up something in her hand, and his alarmed look deepened. It was an enormous scale, with a bit of blood on its broken end; both the blood and the break looked recent. Chakos looked at it and said, 'Time to go, yeah.' Ross stood up, but nearly fell back again as a huge shadow fell over the little light from outside. The dragon had appeared. Ross gasped, 'Ach y fi, the wretches! Five feet it is not, but fifty.' Chakos whirled around, then froze. The dragon blocked the cave's mouth, and it was steaming bits of flame at them and grinding into the stone with its claws. He said shakily, 'I don't think I have anything that will get us out of this one, Lyn.' Ross stared up at the monster for a moment, then ran up to her uncle and grabbed his arm. An instant later, they were in the grass outside. Chakos had a hand to his stomach, his face pale; the effects of teleporting had never sat well with him. Rossalyn spared no time for her uncle, but vanished again. A few instants later, Chakos heard an explosion from the direction of the sea, and a great cloud of steam rose into the air. Ross reappeared at his side a moment later, covered in water and dragon's blood. Her uncle, whose queasy feeling had dissipated, looked at his niece in surprise. 'What WAS that?' Ross shivered a bit from cold. 'Teleported the driag into the sea, I did. The fires in its belly turned to steam when he swallowed them, I fear. . .' He looked at her. 'Teleported?' Ross flushed a bit. 'See you, Uncle, this amulet,' Ross drew out a pale-coloured amulet made of stained glass, in the shape of a heart, with fluid inside. 'Last week it was that I found it, in a copy of 'Alexander Pope, the Complete Works'. It was a portal device, the note said; tinkering with it I was, from my texts on charms and that sort, to be certain it would work. I had intended to test it this next week.' Chakos grinned. 'And you were saving it for a surprise till then?' Ross smiled in return. 'Aye, till I knew.' He nodded. 'Keep it around. Though,' he winced, 'best if you save it for emergencies.'
Immunity: Mind Blast
Immunity: Standard
They stumbled into the small kirk above the graveyard, slamming the door after them. The wolves' cries still rang out in the darkness, from the direction of the road. 'Safe will we be here, Uncle?' Ross asked, as she slid the bolt over the door. 'Vampyres, I heard there are, and perhaps already invited here by a misled parishioner.' Chakos shrugged and set his bags against the wall. 'Either in here or outside with the wolves, so it's not much of a choice.' She nodded and knelt besides her own bags on the ground, to draw out their blankets and a bit of dried meat and bread for supper. Chakos was staring out the window near her. 'Lyn, have a look at this,' he said, pointing. Two of the graves in the back were freshly turned up, although the tombstones, from what they could make out through the snow, were very old. Ross came and looked over his shoulder. 'Truth there is to the rumours, indeed.' He nodded. 'We'd be here until the morning anyway, so we can just wait it out; six hours until dawn. First watch yours or mine?' Ross smiled, and dragged a small stool from behind the pews over to the window. 'Tired I am not; I'll stay awake first.' It was a few hours before the vampyre appeared at the window; a dark, lightly built man with white skin and glowing eyes. Ross felt in her cloak for a wooden stake, but sat still for the moment. It drifted to the window and stared into her eyes. She felt a compulsion to listen as it said, 'Child, a poor weary traveller am I, in places you'd not know. Please, invite me in, so that I may rest at last.' She stared back, making no reply. The creature nodded, and leaned forward. 'Unfasten the catch, child. Speak the words.' She replied softly, 'I see no catch.' He glared, and she felt a sharp pressure at the back of her mind. 'Lift your hand to the catch, child, or you will taste more of my powers!' She couldn't turn away, but she kept herself from opening the window. The vampyre's eyes flashed, and she felt something tingle, but no more. His eyes widened in anger. 'Who are you to defy my skills?' Ross felt the touch of a hand, and she at last managed to tear her gaze away. Chakos said, 'Any trouble, Lyn?' He held a stake in one hand, and a silver cross was looped over the hand that rested on her shoulder. He gave the vampyre a pointed look, and it shrank away from the window and dissolved into mist. 'No, none as yet, uncle,' she replied. He grinned. 'Good. My shift now, go rest for a few hours.' The vampyre stayed away for the rest of the night, and Chakos dealt with it more permanently the next morning.
Resistances: Arcane Lore
 Resistances: Standard
The mage's voice drifted down the corridor, to where Rossalyn stood near the door, craning to hear. 'Just spellcasting, Lyn?' Chakos asked softly. She nodded. 'Here we go, then.' Chakos slid the door open and proceeded his niece down the corridor. The old mansion was built in a T-shape, the two upper wings branching away from the main building; he gestured for Ross to explore the left-most wing, while he searched the other. Ross walked slowly down the hall, trying to keep the old boards beneath her feet from betraying her presence. She came to a lit room, enveloped in a smell of chemicals and herbs, with a sharper, more acrid smell overhanging it. She stopped by the edge; her dress, unnoticed, caught itself on the iron latticework of the small side-table near the doorframe. The magician had paused in his chanting, and was rustling pages of a book. Ross drew back a bit, about to go find her uncle. As she moved away, her skirt pulled against the rickety table, and it tipped so that the metal box atop it came crashing to the floor. She froze, appalled, as the sorcerer came out and saw her. 'You!' he exclaimed, 'accursed child, you'll not stop me now!' Ross stared for a moment, and then suddenly recognized the man. 'Vylhein!' He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her into the room. 'Yes, it is I. And see what I have done!' The room was filled with magical implements, and along one wall there stood several zombies, unmoving. 'You'll not leave here alive, child,' he said furiously, and began to cast a spell. Wanting to give Chakos a clean shot at the mage when he came, Ross edged towards the other end of the room. She stood in front of a desk littered with the tools of alchemy, as well as several old notes. On a sudden thought, she moved around behind the desk and abruptly pushed it over. The lantern shattered, and as the fire reached the powders, the desk lit up in multi-coloured flames. Vylhein paused in his casting and cursed. 'For that, child, you will become,' he nodded towards the zombies, 'like them.' He began chanting the more hurriedly, ignoring for the time the flames. Ross moved away from the heat just as her uncle appeared behind the sorcerer. Chakos, glancing at the room, quickly saw the situation and motioned Rossalyn to edge along the opposite wall, away from the flames. He drew a silver dagger and threw it at the sorcerer's back; five feet from the man, it fell to the ground, twisted in a blue sheath of electricity. Chakos motioned to Ross to ready her amulet, even as Vylheim turned towards him. Chakos wasted no time, but rolled the barrel he had seen out of the corner of his eye, covered in a black sort of grit, towards the fire. 'Ross! Teleport us out, now,' he called as, the barrel smashed open. Ross was at his side instantly, and then she teleported them both outside, an instant before the entire mansion blew. 'Is he dead now, Uncle?' Ross asked, looking a bit stunned still. 'I'd say so,' Chakos replied, nodding at the zombie nearby, who was sinking back into the earth even as the wing of the mansion fell entirely.
Calling
 Weapons Creation: Superior
Chakos killed yet another monster with a wooden stake and then dragged Ross through the front gates of the castle. She latched the gates behind them, and the last of the monsters threw themselves futilely against the metal railings. Chakos looked at Ross, and she nodded. 'You stay here, Lyn, and watch my back. I'm going to go have a talk with that lich.' 'Yes, Uncle Chakos.' She sat on the steps leading to the portcullis as Chakos stepped inside. She could hear their voices drifting out, 'Who are you? Why have you come here?' 'My name isn't important. I have something you might want to see, Alexandruis. . .' Ross drew herself to her feet and headed the opposite direction, around the wall. She found the break in the stonework, and slipped inside the castle at last. She lit a candle to see in the gloom, and began to search the hallways; she was looking for Alexandruis's phylactery, for to destroy it would be to destroy the mage who had bottled his soul inside the device. She had little time, too, only as long as Chakos could keep the lich occupied with tales of a long-destroyed book of magic. She hurried down corriders, looking for something that seemed significant, and now and then fighting off a monster. Though it seemed hours, it was not long before she entered what seemed to be a sitting room; there were paintings on the walls, a few chairs, and a parlour organ. One of the paintings caught her eye, as it was larger than the rest and seemed almost to move. It showed Alexandruis himself standing in a small room with writing on the walls, and just in front of him, on a pedastle, there was a misshapen glass container of nearly a foot in height. The thing was hideous, and seemed to shimmer in the light from her candle. On a sudden instinct, she closed her eyes teleported, thinking of the place in the picture. The teleport seemed to take longer than usual, but even so she opened her eyes to find herself in the room. The walls themselves seemed to glow purple from the writing etched on them, and in the centre was the bottle itself. As she could feel powerful spells binding the place, she dared not move lest she trigger something. She was close enough to the bottle to reach it, and hurridly grabbed a small dagger from her cloak. She brought the handle down hard on the bottle, but nearly dropped it when the bottle stood fast under the pressure. She stared at it for a moment, and then understood; there was no doubt a spell binding it. She dared not touch it to teleport it away for fear of the spells, and so tryed everything she could think of. Blessed water, silver, fire, nothing worked. She heard a sudden metallic noise, and Alexandruis appeared in front of her, Chakos alongside him. In a last attempt, Ross shoved the pedastle that the bottle rested on, and to her surprise it tipped. The phylactery, as she now knew it was, fell to the floor some distance away, and shattered there. The lich watched in horror, as his skin started to melt from his bones. 'You. . . trapped me! Curses be upon your immortal souls!' he cried, as the last of him disintegrated, leaving a pile of flaming bones. Chakos grinned at his niece. 'Not every day we put down a lich, eh? Well done.'
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Hall Of Fame!
Survival - 10 Wins!
Brutal - 3 Fatalities
