Sickly shade sliced through the night like a bolt, and despite the desperate lean a sliver snicked his glistening brow. Severed shaft knocked the nimble arm aside as the wary warrior stepped back, shaking a few droplets from his forehead to clear the blistering rage; so sharp it had swelled. Seeking some advantage as he reset his stance, azure eyes alighted upon a dusty lantern near the mausoleum. Thoughts turned to the thirsting plynt nestled in brown belt, then turned some other colors and tasted funny; another quick head-shake took care of that. One gloved hand dove into his vest while the other flipped the halberd's haft up to hold it like a spear; the grin returned to gritty chin despite the chilling blaze within.

Skin crawled cold and prickly while owls questioned each-other in the nearby trees, and his grip on the succulent surprise recalled the hunger anew. The numbness now in his shoulder paled to that which rolled down from bleeding brow, but the wanderer did not waver. From leathered folds flew the stained stump of a severed hand, all fingers but one tied down with a bit of string. As it sailed through the air, a moonlit middle-finger unfurled like a flag on the breeze. Just as the delicious distraction reached the peak of its arc between the two warriors he hurled the halberd shaft like a spear right for the specter's chest.

The mortal madman sprinted cackling toward the mausoleum.

Pumping pistons in brown cloth, the swordsman's legs devoured the ground between him and his goal in a moment. By the time he had clipped the spool of wire onto his plynt dagger, steel heels were digging ruts into the crisp grass. All across his mindscape angles bent and smells discolored, and once steady things shifted and flowed, but focus remained. With flair the wanderer flicked the knife up into his hand and slammed it into the side of the lantern to break the glass as he tilted it forward. For a brief moment the oil that flowed over the metal simply vanished, but as soon as it dripped again the warrior reached up to the hilt of his bastard sword as he struck the dagger across stone and spun around.

Sparked to flame, green steel gleamed, broad blade bared as well toward the wicked wraith; surely something would kill it.