A pale blue will o' wisp gently glides between the markers and memorials, tracing a path through the wreckage and ruin for the mage it is leading … leading to the place where a magical artifact of great power shall be created from the material components obtained with a fair deal of difficulty.

The mage, wearing robes almost as black as night itself, follows the will o' the wisp closely. Although he wears the hood of the robe over his head, the top of it flicks ever so slightly as his ears try and pick out any sound of being followed.

The cemetery is silent for now. Deathly silent. Naturally. The will o' wisp takes the mage on a winding, meandering path, and for a time it might seem as if it's going to lead nowhere at all … but at last there is another clearing formed amidst the mausoleums and statues. In the center of it is a stone slab that looks like some sort of altar. From all four corners hang chitin chains. Nothing is on the altar, however … just a smooth, stone surface, stained dark in the center.

The mage stifles a dry chuckle as he enters the clearing. Figures that it'd be here, he muses to himself.

You have everything, do you not? comes a whisper that only the fox can hear.

The fox nods once, and places both the vial of Karnoran and the now much cleaner brightly-colored Shiga skin onto the stone table. "Those are the specific items you said to find," Francisco says to the 'wisp.

Good. Lay the hide on the altar, and prepare a magic circle around it on the stone, with a candle lit at each corner. I shall handle the incantations."

The Kitsune nods again, and extracts a stick of chalk, candles and a tinderbox from within his voluminous cloak. He chalks a circle carefully around the skin, ensuring that the skin is in the center of the table, and then proceeds to fiddle with the tinderbox to light up a candle.

The candle flares to life. Cenotaphs cast long shadows in its flickering light.

The wind whips through the cemetery, carrying with it disembodied voices that murmur quietly. Barely heard, they utter arcane phrases of power.

Francisco holds the candle such that it drips hot wax onto the stone, then uses that small pool to anchor the candle on the corner. Using the other three candles, the Kitsune repeats the process, however lighting the other candles from those already lit, until all four corners have candles.

Now, whispers a voice amidst the murmuring, poor the Jupani blood onto the hide.

Assuming the 'Jupani blood' is the vial of Karnoran, the fox removes the stopper from the vial, and does as he is instructed.

The blood spreads outward across the hide, and sinks into it in an unnatural fashion. Magic must already be at work. The patterns on the scaly hide shift, changing colors and writhing.

… Spirits of night, spirits of darkness, heed my call!…

The fox mage steps back a step from the table a moment, watching the colors move in an almost hypnotic fashion.

At once, several semi-solid, shadowy forms rise up from the tombstones. They are all in shambles – a seemingly random cluster of bony shapes and tattered drapery, stuck together in a mockery of a torso, with the lower body fading away into insubstantial mists. They begin to circle the clearing in a ghostly dance, swaying in a rhythm set by the murmuring voices.

Francisco, aware of these 'arrivals', keeps his position and holds his silence, lest he say anything to disrupt the magic at work.

Dagh! Vashtar! Sunala! Dusk-Hand! Tagmemnon! Zorogonis! Accept my sacrifice, and grant me a boon!

Still the apparitions dance, and the voices murmur their incantations. The patterns writhe and twist, and for a moment it seems as if the hide is not a hide at all, but a window into some nether realm, full of swarming spirits of all colors, joining the dance from afar.

Still, the gray fox keeps silent, but watches the pseudo-pyrotechnics on display on the table, barely even blinking.

A trade, a simple bargain. A door, for a shadow. A gateway, for a covering. A portal, for protection against prying eyes. Grant me this boon.

The hide begins to contort and spread out like liquid, the whole altar being covered by the dazzling display.

Francisco steps back another step from the table at this, and does blink this time. Yet, he remains silent.

The murmuring voices rise in volume, and the spirits dance more frantically. Wind whips about, and thunder rumbles as dark clouds roll in, obscuring what is left ofthe light of the setting sun, and the glimmering Procession.

Unperturbed by the winds and thunder, the mage continues to watch… and wait.

The laughter of Amaranth rises above the crashes of lightning … and even a few bolts strike somewhere in the cemetery, sending up clouds of debris.

The hide writhes again, and slowly begins to constrict upon itself … then it reforms … and darkens. Mists obscure it for a moment … and then, when they pass away from it, there, lying in the center of the circle and the candles, is a cloak, loosely rolled. On one side, it is covered with a garish pattern of colors formed in Shiga scales. On the other, it has a pitch black lining. Or, that is, it could just as easily be worn with the black on the outside, and with the colorful pattern on the inside, if one so desired.

The apparitions slowly fade away, as do the voices. How much time has passed? Somehow, it seems well into the night now. The sun is long since gone. How time flies…

The gray fox tilts his head a little, listening for any further sound from the voices, but yes, it does appear as quiet as it was before now. He takes a small step towards the altar to glance at the product of the evening's work, yet doesn't go to pick it up yet.

Go ahead, Francisco-san. It is yours.

Francisco reaches out and takes the cloak off the table, and carefully inspects it. "Reversible, for your convenience," he notes to himself with a slight chuckle.

It seems like a perfectly ordinary cloak. Well, aside from the garish designs, of course.

It is the perfect attire for you, Francisco-san. It will never be out of style. With but a simple cantrip, you can change the patterns as you wish … as if you had the hide of a color-changing he'bi.

Murmuring voices fill the ears of the fox, repeating a chant. It seems to burn itself into his memory … a cantrip.

"Anything else I should know about this?" the Kitsune asks to the air.

Do not let anyone examine it too closely, or they will realize that it is not something wholly of your creation. It is best to keep its true nature a secret for now, until you are in a more secure position to deal with those who wish to cause you trouble.

A shadow flutters through the storm, looking roughly spherical … but with a pair of bat-like wings. As it slowly draws closer to the clearing … it becomes evident as a giant eyeball with bat wings!

An intruder!

The fox looks up and blinks. "I think that much is obvious," he remarks.

The eyeball apparition flutters about, as if searching for something. It's getting closer.

A gust of wind blows out the candles.

Hunched over and moving from ruin to ruin, Aaron pauses to peek out from under his wicker hat. The lights where in this direction, I'm sure, he thinks. In one hand, he carries a long object bundled up in cloth.

The Kitsune ducks away from the table swiftly, heading for a nearby tomb. As he makes his way, he fiddles with the cloak, trying to put it on.

The cloak fits neatly about the form of the fox, as if made for him … as if a second skin.

Still, those garish colors stand out against these dull gray stones. Or, they would, if there was any light to be had. The lightning flashes have stopped.

On reaching the cluster of stone, Francisco starts to mutter the cantrip that he was told.

The Lapi inches his way closer to center of the cemetery, pausing every so often to listen for anything moving or talking, now that the storm is abating a little.

But if there was a chance to see the fox before, there's none now. When the Lapi comes into the clearing, all he finds is a stone altar with chitin chains hanging from it. In the middle of the altar is a dark stain, dimly seen by what little ambient light reflects off the low-hanging clouds from the city.

There are some snuffed-out candles, and signs of a circle scribed on the stone.

Aaron covers his mouth with a paw, quickly. "Poor… whatever it was." He looks around in case there are any cultists waiting to jump on the curious.

By the stone, the gray fox looks around to see if he can eyeball the … eyeball, and while doing so catches a glimpse of a Lapi entering the clearing. He continues to recite his cantrip, in as quiet a voice as he can.

A wind blows through the stones, picking up in a loud wail. Perhaps the storm is coming back…

Aaron jumps at the sound of the wail, and the cloth-wrapped staff clatters against the base of the altar as he drops it. "Who's out there??" he calls, while his right hand fumbles at the front of his poncho.

The gray fox keeps still and silent. Theoretically, this cloak should allow him to blend into the background… as long as he does not move or utter a sound.

The Lapi finally gets his poncho open enough to pull out a small blowgun.

Francisco waits for the Lapi to look around away from where he hides, and then moves a short distance towards Aaron, reciting the cantrip again under his breath, finishing it as he comes to a stop by some other tombstones.

Aaron twists his ears around, and keeps facing a different direction every few heartbeats, unsure from whence the wailing came.

Something shifts in the shadows. Then another. On top of the mausoleum. From out of the eye-sockets of a statue… shadows swirl and dance about!

The fox holds his breath and keeps very still. The Lapi is almost within reach, but surely with those ears he could even hear him?

Spinning to face the shadows, the rabbit raises the blowgun to his lips and fires a wooden dart towards the motion.

What I wouldn't give for a held spell right now, Francisco muses, and roots around carefully on the ground for a small rock or other distraction.

There's a loud SQUEAK … and a shadow falls from the rooftop of the mausoleum. By that *thud*, it sounds like it hit awfully solidly against the ground.

Aaron stands frozen for a moment, but when hordes of demons don't come boiling out of the shadows, he quickly reloads his blowgun with another dart and picks up the staff with his left, black-furred hand.

Something tickles the rabbit's hand as he clutches the staff.

The Lapi blinks and looks down at his black hand.

A fuff'nar looks back up to the Lapi. "Dead?" he squeaks.

Aaron's eyes go wide! "AAaaaieeee!" he wails, dropping the staff and flapping his arm up and down wildly! "GetitoffgetitOFF!"

The staff falls, rolling into the shadows.

The fuff'nar sinks its little fangs into the arm of the Lapi, and clamps on, hanging on with sheer fuff'nar stubbornness, its ringed tail flopping about madly.

The besieged bunny reacts by flapping both arms and running around, before finally trying to knock the little monster loose against one of the gravestones.

The Kitsune's paw finds a small cluster of pebbles, and slowly closes his hand around them. He keeps a careful eye on the Lapi… and raises an eyebrow at the commotion he's making. Why thank you, little friend, the fox muses, and makes his move to grab the fallen staff.

The fuff'nar lets out a pained squeak, as he is at last dislodged from the rabbit's arm. Ouch. That's got to hurt. But then, so does the rabbit's arm.

The staff completely vanishes into the shadows.

Thank you, Usagi-san, comes a disembodied whisper from amongst the tombstones. And then, it is followed by cackling laughter that slowly crescendos in volume.

Aaron heaves several deep breaths, then clutches his wounded arm as he tries to locate the voice. "San?" he whispers to himself, ears perked up and straining to leap from his skull.

The Lapi finally recovers enough to head back towards the altar, pocketing one of the ritual candles as he searches for whatever he hit with his dart…

Francisco, having headed over to hide by another tombstone, maintains his silence and continues to watch.

The fuff'nar doesn't reappear. The ghosts seem to have slipped away. … except … goodness! Up in the air is … a floating, disembodied, giant eyeball, with bat wings! And it's looking directly at the Lapi!

Aaron acks and falls over backward, before bringing up his weapon and firing another shot at the … thing hovering over him!

The fox fights down the urge to growl. I'm going to forget that you suggested that, he thinks to himself, sure that it'll be heard by someone other than the Lapi.

The flying eyeball seems totally insubstantial, as the dart flies through it.

"Oh great," the Lapi mutters to himself as he gets up and stares back at the eyeball.

Deciding to not answer for the moment, Francisco keeps silent and decides to just watch the Lapi face off the eyeball.

Aaron tries waving his black hand up and down (his right is still clutching the blowgun) to see if the eyeball reacts.

The Kitsune blinks twice. Spying spirit? he wonders. Uh… right

Francisco waits for the right moment, and then heads towards another tombstone, muttering the cantrip under his breath on the way.

The eyeball flutters around, as if looking at the Lapi from one direction, then the other. It then shakes back and forth, and goes to inspect the altar.

Aaron hmms, and decides the eyeball isn't a ghost, but probably the spirit-thingy Faust and Qing were going to try and create. "Ugly little spud, that's for sure," he mutters, and goes back to looking for whatever it was he shot.

At the tombstone, and waiting another opportunity to head to another, the concealed fox wonders, The snake-like thing?

The Lapi reloads his blowgun again while continuing his search.

The Lapi's search gets uncomfortably closer and closer to the fox … and while the concealed fox is waiting for a moment to get away … how did the Lapi get that close? A foot steps on one of his tails.

The Kitsune closes his eyes tightly and bites his tongue, trying hard not to cry out.

Aaron scratches his chin, then winces. Apparently flapping a recently bitten arm up and down isn't a good idea after all. "Anybody out here?" he asks. They might answer, after all. "If you were hit by a dart, you've only got a few more moments to take the antidote," he bluffs. He's sure he hit something, after all.

There's a moan from over there. Ah! At the base of the mausoleum! A stone's throw away from where the Lapi currently stands.

Francisco, still biting his tongue, hears the moan too. Go check it out! he wishes.

Aaron hurries over to the mausoleum, keeping his blowgun ready.

At the base of the mausoleum … something is lying on the ground. It's … it's tall … with wings like a bat! And its fur is black as night…

But it has spikes on its shoulder-pads … kind of like … skedat armor.

"An Eeee?" Aaron wonders out loud, eyeing the armor and comparing it to the Babelite style he saw once in a restaurant.

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, the Kitsune takes advantage of the Lapi running off, and takes another moment to get further out of the cemetery.

It's … It's an Eeee, all right, in light armor. He doesn't look undead, though he looks as if he took an awful fall.

Aaron frowns. What would an Eeee be doing out here? In armor? In a storm? The Lapi slaps his forehead, causing another twinge in his wounded arm, and mutters, "Dagh! The Babelite Embassy is out here now!"

The remnants of the storm finally abate. No more ghosts and ghouls.

Except for, perhaps, that whistling breeze that sounds vaguely like a fading laugh…

Shifting from foot to foot, Aaron considers going back to search for the staff, although he's pretty sure it won't be found. With a sigh, he slips the blowgun back into its holster in his vest, and leans down to check the Eeee's pupil response. "I hope you don't have a concussion, pal, because all I carry are some headache remedies… "