Preoccupied with the room itself and the magic he feels stirring within its walls, Carlisle remains unaware of Kabal's distress until the man crosses his periphery, backing against the wall in what Carlisle can only assume is fear. That can't be right, can it? There is nothing about this awful fellow and his intimidating ways that has ever said he's capable of even feeling fear. Maybe it's pure, instinctual apprehension that makes Kabal agree with Carlisle's sentiment, but whatever the reason, the clergyman finds himself both surprised and relieved he doesn't want to stick around to see what treasures they may find hidden behind the chair. They shouldn't be there.
He tries to pry his foot from the ground, but it won't budge, as though the pressure from the magic all around them were holding him in place. His head throbs painfully — that should be impossible too, right? No no, it may be caused by his own energies being agitated, as they most certainly are now, but that should be from his own doing and not external forces—
Carlisle puts one hand to his temple, then the other; the images flashing on the walls all around them only worsen the pulsating behind his eyes. He hasn't felt like this since he was alive, and he's terrified of what it means.
"There's magic here!" he chokes out. "There's hngh! Something in this room!"
The bones on the walls, images they may be, rattle and twist, pulling themselves into malformed abominations, their eyes glowing with a hostile light like the fires from before. Some of them resemble monsters; others individuals from the memories of both men in the room, their features twisted nearly beyond recognition.
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He tries to pry his foot from the ground, but it won't budge, as though the pressure from the magic all around them were holding him in place. His head throbs painfully — that should be impossible too, right? No no, it may be caused by his own energies being agitated, as they most certainly are now, but that should be from his own doing and not external forces—
Carlisle puts one hand to his temple, then the other; the images flashing on the walls all around them only worsen the pulsating behind his eyes. He hasn't felt like this since he was alive, and he's terrified of what it means.
"There's magic here!" he chokes out. "There's hngh! Something in this room!"
The bones on the walls, images they may be, rattle and twist, pulling themselves into malformed abominations, their eyes glowing with a hostile light like the fires from before. Some of them resemble monsters; others individuals from the memories of both men in the room, their features twisted nearly beyond recognition.