On that night no one slept. When even the dead were up and about, there was little hope for anyone to get any rest. The vengeful spirits, in their now practically rotting host bodies, left their homes almost as soon as the sun was down, walking out amongst the other dead. The remaining living villagers huddled in their homes as they waited for death to come to them. Soot fortified the ancient tower with every ward he could muster, though they seemed to break under the assault of the energies of realm of the dead almost as soon as he could raise them.
Moose was busy trying to drink himself into oblivion, just like the last two nights, when he got a visitor. In the dim candlelight of his home, he didn't even notice as a ghost passed straight through his closed door. Only as the spirit of Hawk came to loom over him did Moose feel a chill that awakened him from his stupor, but he did not have time to even scream before the ghost fell upon him, squeezing what life he had remaining out of him. Perhaps fortunately, Hawk, whose soul was completely shattered in this lack heroic attempt to save the village, would never know that Moose was, for all his faults, entirely innocent.
When the vengeful spirits came by some time later, having to break down the door on their way in due to the cumbersome bodies of flesh and blood their all currently still inhabited, the only ghost that could be found was a confused Moose who was just waking to his own unlife over the body he'd just recently vacated. Seeing that their visit was unnecessary, the vengeful spirits soon left the confused ghost behind, for they still had a purpose to fulfil. They had to plan for their final attack at dawn.
As the sun's dim and distant light began to shine through his window, Vieira did not feel joy at the fact that he had survived, but dread at how the world outside seemed no less dark and cold for it. Hearing a knock on the door, he poked his head through the window to see who it was. Seeing what appeared to be two walking corpses turn their heads to stare back at him, he withdrew back insid. But Vieira was already an old man to begin with, and the effects of the realm of the dead were the harshest on him. After seeing his beloved village completely destroyed like this, he was already resigned to his fate. Having never bothered to bar the door he simply sat down and waited as the two vengeful spirits walked inside.
At that moment however, a ghost seemed to appear out of nowhere, rushing at the vengeful spirits. Through the night Dago had stood watch over the village chief's house. Vieira, despondent as he was, hadn't even been aware that he and his home had been entirely separated from the village during the night by the ghost's powers, safe from harm. As the sun rose, Dago's protection faded away, but seeing how he had not yet been chased away by the sun's ever weakening light, Dago hoped that he might have enough power now to intervene directly. Unfortunately, he was not able to muster much of a resistance as Hamlet, or the centuries old soul now possessing the rotting body, held him back. Crassius meanwhile shambled over to where Vieira was sat down waiting. Barely a touch from the vengeful spirit was needed to drain the last of the life from Vieira's frail body. The ghosts of Dago, Vieira and Archer, who also emerged from the village chief's body with his death, could only watch helplessly as the vengeful spirits shambled off afterwards, looking for other victims. Rocco, likewise, watched in horror as the abilities of his ghostly form proved useless.
Jock had likewise watched over a villager that night, ready to sacrifice what remained of his essence to protect Adaham from harm. That had proved to be unnecessary, but instead he witnessed many shocking things, as he followed the guard that left his home soon after sundown. It appeared that Adaham had a bodyguard of his own already, as Brutus soon joined him, and he had intended to recruit another, though he was turned away from Vieira's home by some strange ghostly power before he could add Archer to his host of ghostly minions. By the time that they instead headed for the tower where Soot was holed up, Adaham, or rather the Necromancer, who was hidden within that body, addressed the frightened Jock directly.
"It's too late for this village now. Another life has just disappeared, and that old man is likely to follow soon. Protect the one that's taken residence in my tower, and there might still be a way out for your soul. Else the realm of the dead will soon swallow us whole, and the spirits of my old acquiantances will be after us as well."
Soon the necromancer presented his plan to Soot as well. In desperation the young man agreed to add his meager arcane understanding to that of the ancient, though greatly weakened, necromancer. Together they, and the ghosts of Jock and Brutus, one of whose cooperation was more voluntary than the other, prepared for a final defense as they felt even the final spark of life in the village down below get snuffed out. The necromancer's tower was after all filled with a great deal of power, even after a part of it had leaked out to cause this disaster in the first place.
As Xardob and Adaham, and the old spirits possessing those bodies, came face to face there, their encounter was strangely tinged with nostalgia. The memories of the two villagers that they'd also seized, and the friendship between them, mixed with hatred from centuries past, and memories even older. The vengeful spirits finally discovered their true enemy, one that they'd thought long gone, but who had in truth hid in the very same tower that he'd trapped them in for the past centuries.
By the end of the confrontation the necromancer and his newfound allies were driven back inside the tower, as the power of the ghosts proved yet too feeble even with the diminished light of the day, and the vengeful spirits finally seized the village fully. As a last act of desperation, the necromancer repeated the very same magics that had left him sealed in the tower last time, resigning himself and the others with him to centuries of imprisonment. He was patient after all, and saw no reason that he shouldn't have yet another chance in the future, once his tower once again crossed into the realm of the living. The rest of the village meanwhile was lost in the realm of the dead, the ghosts of the innocent villagers slowly scattering and the vengeful spirits finally finding the freedom they'd looked for.
The Vengeful Spirits are victorious. Congratulations to Xardob, Hamlet and Crassius.
Sorry guys, that took rather long. I forgot I had an RP session today, which dragged on. Should probably just have left it and finished tomorrow. As it is, the final narration is a lot less grand than I'd planned, but I'm too tired to care.