[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/D9OBI9j.png[/img][/center]

There was no time for MacKensie to show her gratitude to Fenna for dealing with the wraith that was on her.  What came next was a horrifying parcel of time where the entire battle seemed to zone out - sight and sound - completely.  Fenna was struck by another wraith and screamed.  MacKensie's mouth was agape in helpless terror.  Sil sqwauked as she hovered about.  Nothing else existed.  Nothing else mattered.  As Fenna was brought to her knees, MacKensie's half-stepped forward but froze.  She couldn't touch the wraith!  She had no magic with which to save her friend.

[Colour=Pink]"Oh my god,"[/colour] she breathed frantically.  The wraith raised it's sword, charging a powerful attack.  And then MacKensie found her voice.  [Colour=Pink]"Somebody help!"[/colour]

And that's when a steel blade flashed into place, right at the last second to block the wraith's glowing strike.  The strange sound of the clash of ghost-blade on oiled steel whiffed through the air, bringing the entire battle around MacKensie back into her senses - sights and sounds - once more.  As she tried to catch her breath, she looked along the steel blade until she saw the hands that wielded it.

[Colour=Pink]"Barracker."[/colour]

Finally able to move again, MacKensie jumped over Fenna and dealt with the skeleton she'd had in a chinlock earlier.  Then she turned back around to see the Paladin pulling Fenna up to her feet.  Both had taken some damage after that, but MacKensie was just glad that Fenna was alive.  Barracker rushed off to help Adam and James with even more wraiths that had shown up on the back line, MacKensie choosing to keep Fenna covered until she'd oriented herself and was ready to jump back into the fighting.  It didn't take long before the dutchwoman was off, leaving MacKensie count the number of targets that her mundane weaponry would be effective against.

But that wouldn't matter anymore.

[i][b]"I beseech thee, Mother Iris, thou who are radiant and wise, ruler of the skies and bearer of the sun, Guide us with thy luminous light's gentle sway so that in thy name victory may be attained "[/b][/i]

Both dagger and crossbow became engulfed in white-gold flames.  Flames that touched her hands but did her no harm.  It quickly made sense to her that this enchantment was the elemental damage she needed to not only do extra damage, but hit all and every enemy on the battlefield.  After the torture she'd just been through; almost forced to watch helplessly while her friend was killed - this moment was extremely empowering.

She started by sheathing her dagger, grabbing a handful of bolts and aiming at the remaining wraiths Barracker had not yet dealt with, near Adam and James.  Each bolt caught fire as it dropped into the firing mechanism of her crossbow and she shot one at a time, not as fast a [i]Deadly Flurry[/i] attack, but working the bolt-action crossbow with lightning dexterity nonetheless.  Four holy-fire bolts was all it took to destroy two wraiths.  The joy was apparent on her face.

[b]"Mac!"[/b] MacKensie's eyes locked onto James.  [b]"The phylactery should be a vessel!"[/b]

The phylactery!  It was up to her.  She nodded resolutely.  [Colour=Pink]"Oui!"[/colour]

Barely thinking about it - barely even looking where she was aiming - she shot her grapplehook at the ceiling above the Greater Wraith, and flew off just as soon as it connected.  Even as she closed in on the giant ghostly being, having to lift her legs to avoid touching it's head as she swung past it, she could hear James' voice above the sound of the Greater Wraith's charging spell.

[b]"A locket, a skull, a fucking vase, as long as it is meant to contain something it can be the phylactery!"[/b]

Her grapplehook disconnected and sailed through the air the rest of the way.  Her double-foot landing was cushioned by dropping into a roll, the rest of the momentum dying out by skidding a couple of yards once back on her feet.  Immediately she was upon the cabinets, repeating James' description to herself as she opened each door and started rifling through the contents.

And then she found it:  A small wooden box, about the size of her jewelry box as a teenager.  It had to be it.  Her gut told her it was.  And so she dropped it on the floor and delivered a mighty stomp with all she could muster.  The box smashed into pieces.