As he draws in the energy for the spell, he almost feels a hand guiding him, correcting any slight mistakes he might have made, and including the million and one little details he wouldn't have included, linking together the hundreds of blood vessels, and nerve endings. The process goes quite quickly... but not quickly enough for the necromancer, who pitches forward over the skull of the no-longer controlled dragon, and plummets, screaming, onto the cobbled street, in front of the inn.<br/><br/>The spell seems to take an hour, but in truth, barely thirty seconds passed, before, with a solid thump, the dragon settles onto the roof, a magnificent, majestic blue dragon. Its head turns, slowly, looking at Ciaphas for a moment, before its eyes roll back into its head, and it collapses to the roof, hard enough to leave a large dent.