Ray straightened up, slightly more stalwart than before. "Now? We've a necromancer to deal with." He flipped his helmet on, and underwent a shocking transformation. Through the nostril ports of the demonic visage on the helmet, putrid flames shot out. The young raccoon seemed to possess a small aura of darkness about him, washing out anything nearby. His footfalls were heavier, but more oppressive. He threw the front door of the tower wide open, and stood, silhouetted against the now steel-grey sky, flecks of snow falling gently to the ground. "Are you coming, miss Viola?"