Rob dodged away as the charnelwight seemed to go mad, boiling and bubbling from within and rampaging around like a thing in mortal agony. Which it might very well be, assuming it was capable of feeling pain - rotten blood and other fluids burst from its decayed flesh, soaking the ground as it battered down trees and smashed through stone walls and monuments.  “<b>Come on, Xander!</b>” he called. “<b>Work before play!</b>”<br/><br/>The Champion of the Four-Faced Moon dashes after the abomination, leaping from tombstone to tombstone and sprinting along a fieldstone wall as he gave chase. The charnelwight wasn’t difficult to follow, really, but he didn’t close the gap. After all, none of his supernatural gifts came with anything like a guaranteed way to murder Eldritch horrors. He needed a plan.<br/><br/>“Everybody, get back!”<br/><br/>It was the sane witch, standing astride a platform of glowing tunes, hair blowing and clothing tugged at by unseen winds from other world. She drove her fist into the beast’s body, something he was glad to let<i>anyone els</i>e do, and deposited something. One of the alchemical substances she’d bitched at him about earlier, no doubt. But it gave him an idea.<br/><br/>Silver flashed in the moonlight as he drew yet another of his throwing blades. Then he sprang, landing in the crotch of a tree. “‘<b>Monkey boy’?</b>” he sneered, running along the branch. “<b>More like ‘cat-like grace’, thank you.</b>”<br/><br/>Liquefying tentacles lashed out, slashing and clawing blindly in the direction of the red-haired witch. Rob let fly with his knife and sprang again, one foot landing on the tunic platform as he scooped her up and jumped again. Behind him the charnelwight shrieked as five inches of steel flew through a crack in its thick skull to embed itself in the beads brain.  “<b>Time to go!</b>”