[h3]Jaelnec, Freagon, Irah, Lhirin, Nabi, Yanin, Jordan and Madara, Bor Manor, Borstown[/h3]
Freagon did not hesitate when Lhirin told him to withdraw, but instantly released the divine wearing the witch-hunter's flesh and jumped backward, changing his stance mid-jump to seize his weapon with both hands. Way back in the armory, still standing guard by Irah, Jaelnec let out a shriek of pain, threw both of his hands up to cover his eyes and turned from the doorway as the bolt of lightning struck the ghoul, filling the hall with searing light; light which was fundamentally anathema to nightwalker eyes.
In the hall itself, standing but a couple of meters from it, Freagon did not even blink nor flinch. His one eye kept staring at his opponent expectantly, his blade prepared to finish the job if Lhirin's spell proved insufficient.

It very quickly became clear that his wariness was unnecessary, though, as the once-ghoul instantly collapsed on the floor as soon as there was no longer electricity keeping it standing. He glanced behind him and to his left, where Lhirin stood amidst the now-inert rug. Then past him and toward the left staircase of the hall, where Nabi was just ceasing the blaze she had conjured against the table-wraith, but the disappearance of magical fire only revealed the real fire that was currently engulfing the piece of furniture... which was no longer moving. If that wraith was still active, it seemed content to just stand there and let the fire consume it.

For a second the silence was almost deafening in the wake of this short burst of combat, with the only sound being everyone breathing and the crackling of the flames, but Freagon did not relax his stance.

Then, suddenly, several of things happened all at once.
To their left, in the west-end of the hall, one half of the massive four meter-wide double door swung open as another unnatural abomination moved into the hall: a 150 cm tall construct made up entirely of what appeared to be shards of dinner plates and pottery in various colors, making up a frame that loosely resembled a humanoid shape with arms, legs and a small head. All the different ceramics creaked, clattered and cracked as it moved, a pair of orange-yellow eyes alight on what would be considered its face, and it raised its arms in front of it as if preparing for a fight. On the end of its right arm – either held by it or as part of its actual vessel – it brandished a hefty meat cleaver. On the end of its left arm was a carving fork.
To their right, in the east-end of the hall, a smaller door burst open but a second after the first, allowing another table to enter, only this one was much larger, perhaps closer to what one would consider a dinner table whereas the the currently burning one looked more like a bedside- or coffee table. This one had not commandeered any additional furniture either, but merely crashed in as just a table, moving on all four legs in an aggressive stance, like a bull ready to charge.
Finally, up above on the landing that lined upper floor of the hall, four human figures rushed in from the west end – each with different and somewhat obvious signs of probably lethal injury – and moved to stand at the top of the two staircases, glaring down at the people gathered at the bottom of the hall. The two on the left wielded silver swords, but did not wear the armor that the first had, whereas the two on the right wielded a flanged mace and a spear, respectively, and both wore chainmail over gambesons.
Accompanying what was in all likelihood ghouls on the landing was another wraith, though this one seemed much less intimidating than the ones on the lower floor, as it seemed to be made up of sheets and blankets and was just flopping awkwardly over the floor, moving to the top of the left staircase along with the silver-sword wielding ghouls.

The pottery-wraith moved to attack Nabi, who was closest to it. The second table-wraith went to rush at Freagon. And all the creatures upstairs started running down them, the faces of the ghouls in particular being twisted into expressions of mad delight at the bloodshed they expected to be about to partake in.