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"Bats, bats, I hate bats."
"Shut up unless your going to damn well help."
"Well that's a fine way talk to a finely made source of powerful magic. Just for that I'm not going to help."
Father Quadrial doesn't have time to respond to the necklace but the anger he feels comes out in the slashing moves he makes with his staff.
Trails of light burn through the massed black wings.
Moving towards the other members of the part he tries to signal them to stand back to back.
"We must create a circle that they can't penetrate." the monk bellows against the squeaking, chittering and flapping leather wings.
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