As Baskin comes within striking distance of the banshee he suddenly loses traction, his legs barely skimming across the ground as the hum around Lafey rises, a ghostly violin sounding in the distance followed by the beat of a haunting drum.
"Come my butcher if you'd please, upon my holy stage. Your stories told your woes recorded on but a single page. A monster hunting through the night, preying on the meek. Your only power stolen from them to hide that you are weak. So come to me and embrace your woes, allow me to tell a tale. Of a man named Baskin cursed and weak and destined to only fail." Lafey gently sings, each word releasing waves of power as slashes appear across Baskin body, his eyes bugged out as he releases a scream of frustration before throwing out his cleaver.
