[b][u]1:23 AM, GCU Library, Burnley, Gotham, November 27th. [/u][/b]

[@Ceta de Cloyes]

"Tommy, run!" Clayton Toombs roared as he brought the mace down onto the flesh golem's lumpy, rotting shoulder, the creature barely seeming to notice the crushing blow as bone shattered under the weight of the steel head. The monster's twisted, mutilated lips pulled back in a snarl as it almost effortlessly backhanded the necromancer across the room, with the big man slamming into a bookshelf that was almost overflowing with occult tomes, which fell around him with dull thuds drowned out by the commotion filling the library. Gritting his teeth, he stared up at the monster as it lumbered towards him, fists beginning to smoke and crackle with unholy fire as it grinned at him. He snarled right back and hurled a bolt of negative energy at the golem, trying to sap the strength from the necrotic muscles. It staggered for a moment, roaring with pain as rotting muscles were drained, but surged back up as the spirit within called on it's own power to drive it on.

It had been even worse than he'd imagined. The surge in the ley lines had taken what would should have been a mindless beast akin to Frankenstein's monster and turned it into a monster like he hadn't seen in ages. Clayton was still guessing as to what the hell had happened a few weeks prior, but ever since it seemed as though everything magical had increased in strength three-fold. It had allowed the would-be necromancer to create a body far stronger than she had ever hoped for. When he'd seen her head twenty feet from her body, he figured that she was not aware of how enticing a body like that was to the Fallen, and with the strengthening of the ley lines, so too had come a weakening of the veils between planes.

So Clayton Toombs and his son had found themselves battling a goddamn seven foot tall flesh golem with a demon spirit inside, and all the infernal power that came with it. An unlucky night to say the least, especially since all four of the library guards were dead and strewn across the room. The mage grunted and hefted the mace again, trying to figure some way of damaging the thing in a way the Fallen couldn't just patch up.

"Get the Silver Nail!" He barked at Tommy, charging forward and ducking under a massive, flame-covered fist, bringing the mace down into the back of the golem's knee. "Trunk of the car, bring it and ram it straight up this fucker's ass!"