Posted on: Sunday, 19 July 2009
“Chazhecha leureucha ajeli!”
Anomen ducked and raised his shield as a swarm of small, bright-red spheres of energy flew forth from the mage’s hands and zinged towards him like angry bees. They struck home regardless, darting around his shield, looping and twisting through the air to find his most unprotected spots. The armor protected him from the worst, but the impact still knocked him off-balance, and the crackle of arcane energy burnt like fire.
Suddenly Cassandra’s form was in front of him, trying to shield him, but the next wave of magic missiles wove around her, paying no attention, and slammed into the paladin again. He let out a hiss of pain and a less-than-gracious curse word.
“Jaheira!” the redheaded warrior shouted.
“Busy!” the half-elf’s sturdy voice returned from somewhere to Cassandra’s left. The chaos of chanting and shouting and the ringing of metal and war made further exchange impossible. The druid had engaged Baron Ployer the moment his treachery had been revealed and was determined to take down her old rival. Unfortunately that same treachery was giving the slaver a strong advantage. Three mages had teleported into the room, barred the door magically, and begun hurling spells like child’s play. The whole room smelled of sulfur and ash from burning hands, flaming arrows, and gods only knew what else. Smoke was beginning to fill the air from burnt hair and acid-etched armor.
Cassie swung her sword at the yellow-robed wizard before her as he began another incantation. They’d come prepared; her blow connected solidly, but bounced off his protective abjurations. Stoneskins, most likely, from the faint greyish hue of his skin, and a pain in the ass, for sure.
A triumphant shout caused her attention to dart to the side. Anomen’s opponent had fared for the worse, and the noble knight was pulling the spikes of his morningstar out of the ogre’s carcass. It was a summoned beast, the muscle serving the mage, but its death was an important victory. Without his pet, the sorcerer would be a much less formidable foe.
“Dammit! By the horns of—“ The oath was cut short with a sharp gasp of breath, and it seemed that for a moment the entire room went silent. For a moment, just a moment, nothing moved at all.
A deep chill grabbed hold of Cassandra’s heart and squeezed viciously. Suddenly everything was moving half-speed, dreamlike, unnatural, as she spun around, too slowly, Jaheira’s name half-formed on her lips. The woman was still standing; Ployer’s sword jutted from her chest where it had found a fatal flaw in her armor. He was grinning like a cat from ear to ear and watched her, even as Cassie did, as Jaheira sank to the floor.
“Good riddance, bitch,” he whispered.
