Fable - Ask Crypticism on the River Sayve

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
Alarm bells were ringing in the head of the necromancer as he laid eyes on the monster before them, he didn't have a name for it but his mother was diligent in teaching him of the more dangerous things to avoid, and this was high on the list. He knew only two things about them, they had a relation to vampires in some way or another, and if they got hold of a magic user then it was going to be difficult for another mage to be of use in the fight against them for a while. These two things in combination meant that he had to be smart about how he went about helping the group, though as the creature leapt and started tearing people apart, Lazarus would see his shields dwindle one by one.

"Damn..." keeping further back from the group, almost still in the doorway, Lazarus would look from Alisande to Hugo and onward to the monster that threatened all of their lives. Having prepared for this beforehand a bit, he would retrieve a bottle of a thick red liquid, viscous in nature and clearly not just some wine he had corked for himself. Sprinting over to the downed vampire, he would place the bottle at her feet wordlessly, not even sure if that would be of any more use to her than simply leaving her be, but he had to do something. Continuing his sprint towards the corpses, he would begin gathering more of that necrotic energy that seemed to infuse every bit of air in this room, sliding to a halt once he got to a pile of bones. "Right, time to give the mantis a group of ants to fend off..."

At great danger to himself by simply opening the wound, Lazarus would take the knife like bone from his robes and stab it into both forearms, letting the blood drip down his arms to coat his hands. "I compel you, all those whom my blood comes to fall upon, rise from your slumber and be at my beck and call. Take back from this monster the very thing it took from you, I implore you, allow my blood to engrain in you life once more." Tossing his arms out towards the piles of bones, he would imbue his blood with the necromantic magic, the droplets splattering across the pile in a smattering of bullets. For a moment the blood soaked bones would be still, but after a held breathe they would begin to rattle and rise, combining to for skeletons from the bones available until they were mostly whole. A group of four of them would start shambling forward towards the armored slaughterer before another group of bones clattered about, following the same process.

Lazarus would continue this process as long as his body would allow, for each pass of his arms over the pile would send less and less blood, his body stitching the wounds closed even as he wished for it not too. While he was already feeling light-headed from the loss of blood, he knew it would take more than that to drop him, begrudgingly thanking the curse on his body while despising it for how it limited his abilities for spells such as this. In total he figured he could bring about maybe twelve or thirteen skeletons, none of which had weapons, but all of which would want to clamber towards and onto the monster, grabbing and tearing at whatever they could get their boney hands on. He knew all too well that a single swipe would take them out, but it was all he could think to do in the moment, as he stumbled and felt the world spin around him from the blood loss, hands shaking and fumbling to find a trinket in his robes to be ready for whatever may come next.

Alisande Hugo Farlance Carmelea Nosfir Mordrith Nightbrae Victoria O'Connor