Another bird swoops at the remaining ruffian, brown this time, and it is all the poor fellow can do just to keep it at bay with his cudgel. Talons strike his hand, and he drops the weapon. It disappears into the darkness of the uneven ground. An elf lunges at him with a sword, and he narrowly dodges it. The blade slams into a stalagmite, and the vibration that runs up the weapon causes the elf to drop it, thank the stars.
Confined to the watery section of the room, the merfolk netcasters put away their own cudgels and pull out their namesake weapon, then look for a reasonable target. A few shady humans were fighting off to one side, but until an elf joined the fray, the merfolk were not sure who were proper foes. With that now settled, they work together to cast a large net. It fails to ensnare the ruffian, but at least it tangles up his feet enough that he stumbles as he backs away from the merfolk’s allies, clearly looking for an avenue for flight.
Rhaessa pours all the energy she can into another lightbeam, reducing the last walking corpse to cinders. The beam cuts off suddenly, and she puts a hand to her chest, surprised at how much the magic has taken out of her. She feels wrung out. In her fright, she may have overdone it. The most she can contribute now is to tamp down Godol’s casting.
After picking his way carefully through the basement of the collapsed building, Kachen finally reaches the opening into the tunnels beneath. As he nears it, he feels the subtle change in energy that indicates a counterspell is in place. Kachen activates his own protective magics and then steps through. There, in the middle of the chamber, is the source, a shadow mage backlit by Hepalonia’s and Tric’s glowing pendants. He has his shadow guardians in place, just like Gaenyn taught, so Kachen does not go for a direct attack. He can see, though, that the man has a curse on the elves. Let’s see how you like it. Kachen points his staff at the man and tears energy from the aetherium. This shadow mage needs to be stopped before he brings up any more undead. A ripple of power surrounds Kachen’s target, the lines of energy causing the very air to warp and wave around him. It is more than Kachen needed for this spell, and rather than harm the fabric of reality here, he pulls the extra energy back to himself, choking out a cough as it sears his lungs.
Godol feels a curse take effect and looks around for the source. Those elves could not have done something like that, and there is no way a white mage would. On the opposite end of the room, he finds what he seeks. The soft green glow of a magic ring draws his eyes to a robed figure leaning heavily on a staff by some bashed in barrels. Finally starting to feel threatened, Godol sends a lance of lightning at the newly arrived mage. It crackles harmlessly against a sphere of energy around the man. Godol’s sloppy work leaves a power vacuum around himself; magic attacks will flow more easily toward him to fill it. He holds onto his counterspell, clinging to what little protection it can provide.
“Send a bird at him!” Kachen shouts. He needs Mate or Aderyn to tear through the shadow protectors.
“Bird is the word!” Tric calls back in affirmation. “Go get him, Mate!” Mate swoops down at Godol. The shadow mage ducks out of the way, his protective shadows oozing with him. Aderyn follows, chasing after Mate or just trying to show the magpie up. Her claws tear through one of the shadows, and it evaporates.
The morale of the last remaining ruffian has clearly broken, and in other circumstances, Heledd might just let him run, but the path he chooses is towards the weakest-looking opponent present, Kachen. Heledd hurls a knife at him. It hits right in front of his feet, and he pauses for a moment. Power visibly collects around Kachen; clearly that way is not safe. Nor is turning back, not with Heledd rapidly closing the distance. He throws his hands up in surrender.
The protective shadows have surged to the opposite side of the shadow mage, leaving him open to attack from Kachen’s direction. He draws Gaenyn’s shadow blade and opens it to the aetherium, using it as a conduit to direct the energy from that plane to his target. A wave of fire rolls over the blade. Although most of the energy flashes forward in a fiery blast, not all does. The sword is ill-crafted, designed with no mind to energy leakage. Kachen pulls all the extra back in at himself, burning his hand to ensure that none spills over. The barrier Kachen put in place around him earlier does nothing to protect him from energies that originate within it. Eyes filling with tears at the pain, he deflates. The sword’s point clanks to the ground; he does not have the strength to even hold it up anymore. The counterspell, his own barrier, the curse… he cannot maintain them all. He releases the counterspell; given the glow he sees coming from Rhaessa’s staff, she is working one herself.
Heppa is alarmed to see Kachen powering up Gaenyn’s sword, but when fire missiles come out of it instead of lightning, she relaxes. That is regular human magic she has seen before, though somewhat more impressive than what Tomos produced. Heledd has the last ruffian well in hand, so Heppa turns her attention to the real menace, Godol. Although her sword is lost among the debris somewhere, her wand is still in her other hand. She coaxes the tree roots back into action. I am definitely going to have to thank Grandmother for this wand again, she thinks.
Godol also reacts to seeing Gaenyn’s sword. It confirms his fear that his beloved leader is indeed dead, his body looted by elves. His eyes widen with alarm at the sight of it wielded against him, and he stumbles back as fire missiles slam into him, scorching him painfully. Roots then shoot down from the ceiling all around him, pulled down by an elvish caster. They knock the precious Book of Rhys from his hands.
“It was just a job, all right?” the ruffian shouts at Heledd, hands in the air. “I was not okay with the necromancy! Maybe now that he doesn’t have the book, he can’t do the creepy things anymore. That’s the only reason I went along. I saw him turn someone into a ghoul. I didn’t want that to happen to me!”
Electricity crackles around Godol. Tric can tell he is charging up for another powerful blast. If he levels it at Kachen, he is likely to flatten the man. “C’mon! C’mon, give me another one,” Tric goads Godol, pointing at the lightning scar at his collar. “Right here, right here!”
Crazed now, Godol turns to the elvish caster who started this whole affair back in the Grey Woods, the powerful one that they all sensed before the caravan attack that went horribly wrong. Stupid birds have been flying at him, just like the stupid trees that crushed his comrades. “You!” Godol screams, unleashing wild lightning. It singes his own hands as it bursts out but clashes harmlessly against the rocks around the prone target.
“You know, I thought a shadow mage would be a little more capable,” Tric shouts. “Your master at least gave me a really nice scar. I would have liked something from this battle to remember you by. But I’m really sorry, you’re just going to be forgotten!”
Tric’s words strike at Godol, pushing him over the edge. “Stop! Just stop!” he raves, his face growing red, his temple throbbing. He chokes up and then collapses, done in by apoplexy.
In the silence that follows, Heledd looks at Kachen, then throws a meaningful glance at the Book of Rhys before returning her eyes to his face. He gives his head a subtle shake, so she makes no move to intervene when Mate swoops down and lays claim to the book. Instead, she heads over to where he has sunk to his knees. The elves can get home from here fine, Alric will make sure of that. And she was promised first recovery rights. Burning that to get Kachen out of here safely is a small price to pay.
Fin