Having provided a rear-guard to make sure they were not followed, Túrion catches up with the others on this new development: "I concur that we should try and find the exact border where the zone ends...conveniently, we have an active spell effect so that should be quite doable. If they are aware, and they likely are, of magic working again in their location, then a frontal assault seems ill-advised. But we could probably force them away from a position that allows them to see us. That gives us a foothold. We can take chances with invisibility, but there's no guarantee that would fool them. I will look into re-learning how to summon creatures once this is over - it would be a convenient option right now to wear them out - but I am afraid I have little meaningful to add in terms of suggestions, considering we are unaware how they decided to prepare for this."
"I could summon an Aether elemental. If I summon a larger one it might be able to throw one of the elves towards us. They are practically invisible as well."
Mel shakes her head. "I already found where the null magic zone ends: clearly in sight of both of them. By the time you're able to call on your magics, they will have seen us and already used theirs. Frankly, it's astounding they didn't notice me, considering I had torch light at my back and no cover separating us."
"So, basically, magic is not an option right here. Túrion can't make anyone invisible. Fyrtor can't summon anything. By the time we have those abilities back, we will already be engaged in combat with them."
"We could retreat back out of this area, cast spells, and then come back. Existing spells appear to be suppressed, rather than negated, as evidenced by the fact that the darkvision spell on me began operating again once I came around the corner. But that is chancy. We don't know how they might use that time."
"We could always just try and wait them out. Sit here and hope that eventually they'll get curious and poke their noses around the corner. Or we could feign retreat, in the hopes of luring them out. But I think it's doubtful they would fall for such a ploy."
"We could try talking to them. But I don't know what good it would do since they're obviously trying to kill us."
She shrugs. "Other than that, I don't see many options but to charge in and take whatever they've got ready for us. The fact that they have magic and we do not gives them a distinct advantage."
”I’d say that yer right. Now, that means to me is this. Our archers fill the wee mage full of arrows from the safety of this null magic zone. The rest of us rush the powerful mage and try to tackle him. Drag his arse back here and snap his neck in the safety of this area. Aye?”
"I wonder ... have any of you ever used a lasso?" Mel asks. "If one of us can lasso a mage from inside the null magic zone, then the others can immediately haul in the rope, dragging him into it with us."
”...” Kazador was silent for a moment. ”Let’s do it. But let’s also fill the other mage full of arrows. Taking them both down quickly is essential.”
”Bloody daft...” Algric muttered, while preparing his arrows.
Kelian extracts a rope from his pack and ties a slip-knot in it, then hands it to Kazador.
”Aye then...here goes nothing.”
As quietly as he could Kazador crept forward. This was their best chance. He had to do this quickly, quietly, and efficiently. In this he had one thing on his side...Torag. This was holy ground for his god. He knew in his heart that he was in the right here. That these elves were, in large part, responsible for what had happened here. If there was ever a time for vengeance it was now. All he had to do was not fook this up! A tall order when doing so required sneaking up on elves while armored, and then using a foreign weapon to catch one. But at the very least, it would probably be a surprise to them even if they were expecting an attack.
Mel takes hold of the rope trailing behind Kazador, leaving plenty of slack for his throw, and prepares to reel the mage in when Kazador gives the word.
Kelian also takes the rope.
Fyrtor draws his sword and places his other hand on the rope ready to haul or run.
While the others prepared to lasso the powerful mage, Algric readied his bow. He planned to shoot the other mage from the safety of the null-magic zone.
Túrion stood somewhat dumbfounded as the others prepared to lasso the mage. It was highly unorthodox - but a chance all the same.
Unfortunately, he had little chance to get ready to act himself without giving away they were going to act.
Nelly stood near Túrion, sniffing the air and ready to leap into action on a word from her master.
Muse hadn't spoken much while the others were planning. He wasn't sure he had anything helpful to say, his mind racing a mile a minute but always coming up with the same useless thoughts in lieu of a plan. Last time he tried to fight these wizards, his poor judgement had led to his nearly dying, to Kazador sacrificing much of his hammer's magic. And that led to Kazador losing to a lesser mage, losing his hammer to a lesser mage, led to Kazador's frustration and omnidirectional seething, led to people dying when maybe they wouldn't have if the honorable dwarves, honorable by their society not his, had been in a better mindspace. Really, so much of all that'd gone wrong in this entire land-bound voyage could be traced back to one Brolin Muse deciding against casting false life that fateful morning.
There was no one to talk to about it, or, rather, Muse was of the habit of not bothering the living about personal issues (little point in trying to hide anything from the dead who see through his eyes), and at any rate this wasn't the time.
"Alright. Let's do this."
As Kazador comes into sight of the elven mage, a horrible crowd of elven ghosts rush toward him, overwhelming the dwarf (22 damage and panicked for 11 rounds with failed reflex save). Simultaneously, the ground drops out from beneath Kazador as a pit appears (failed reflex save against pit as well and takes 14 fall damage). Brolin, Mel, and Turion leap into action save Kazador!
Algric came towards the corner, ready to shoot...only to find Kazador in a pit, bloody, battered, and terrified. The dwarf he once called thane was in the process of swatting at the air, babbling about ghosts. Algric looked down in disgust.
”Bloody pathetic. What a story I’ll have to tell.” He muttered as he pulled out his rope and threw it down. ”Come on up.” He said louder. ”You’re embarrassing all of us at this point.”
Fyrtor seeing Kazador drop away and hearing the gruff dwarf stammer about ghosts looses his patience. He'd warned that attacking these mages was dangerous, that they should go around. Now it was too late to turn back. Running forward he leaps at the edge of the pit praying to his goddess that somehow this would all work out.
Landing just beyond the edge of the pit he takes a few more steps before he turns in place. Drawing holly from his belt cries, "daarom sal die regverdige vuur van Sarenrae die goddelose verteer!" Suddenly a sphere of fire blooms in the a alcove where the elder mage stands.
Fyrtor's blood ran hot as he saw the mages ' faces clearly. These elves had caused the attacks on his village, exploited those too simple to see through their lies, and had been the cause of an entire city's people being cut down. Staring daggers at the now illuminated elf Fyrtor cries out, "Today you will pay for your nation's crimes! The blood of countless innocents is on your hands."
Feeling the rope go slack, and hearing Kazador's cries of panic, Mel says "I guess that didn't work! We could ... oh boy, there goes Fyrtor. I guess it's on!"
She moves forward, pulling out her bow, and positions herself just inside the null magic zone, ready to launch an arrow at the first hostile target to present itself.
Kelian moves a little forward to keep the place lit but otherwise waits for a clear path into the area.
Turion moves in, staying close to the wall - and barely avoiding stepping into the pit. The ground here was treacherous, but at least in the corner he had some cover from the young mage while he worked...
In that case, I'll deliberately jump down into the pit.
Turion rushes in, fails to dispel the pit, and falls into it!
Recognizing the blast of banshees as anything but real ghosts, Muse queries Omit on their nature. Kazador is ensorcelled, he learns, caught in the grips of a supernatural fear - and will likely stay that way for just about half a minute. Plenty of time for the wizards to kill everyone else. And with Turion prone at the bottom of the pit, it seemed that the party's strongest members were in dire straights.
Still, it's not exactly like Muse could cut and run. And any delay would give the wizards a chance to cast more spells. Taking a breath, he rushes headlong into the fray - or, not exactly, because he doesn't even have an angle to see the fray - but he runs at the pit to jump it, and then loops around to get at the younger wizard. He drops his shield as he does so - it wouldn't protect him against spellfire anyway.
With a shout, Muse tackles the apprentice wizard, fighting to get his arm around the elf's neck.
Holding his terbutje to the apprentice's jugular, Muse calls out to the older wizard. "Hey! You might remember me. Or maybe you don't, I understand that you kill a lot of people - maybe they all start blurring together. Anyway. You're going to surrender and let us bind your hands and feet, or I'm going to open your apprentice from neck to navel." He doubts things will be as easy as that - but he might buy time for Turion to dispel the pit or Kazador to fight off the fear spell.
And then the apprentice repositions, Muse shifts his weight, and pretty much trips over his own feet.
Brolin and the junior mage fall together into the pit (7 dam to Brolin). There at the bottom of the pit, the mage manages to escape Brolin's grasp. The master mage does something from his position but it is unclear what.
Túrion manages to stand up despite the frantic dwarf, and barely manages to evade Brolin and the younger mage falling down.
Eyeing the new arrival, Túrion casts another Dispel Magic, this time more focused than he was during the fall.
If the pit raises back to normal levels, Túrion will step away to make space for others. As he does so, he whistles, and a frustrated howl responds.
Turion dispels the pit! But everyone who fell in it is still prone...
Mel blinks at the confused scrum of people lying prone on the floor. Inspiration strikes, and she steps forward, reaches out and clutches a handful of the junior mage's robe in her fist. Then she hauls on it, trying to hoist him back into the null magic zone. "I've got him, Brolin," she calls. "You worry about his master."
Seeing Mel's plan, Kelian readies himself to seize the junior mage once he' in the hallway.
Mel drags the junior mage back very effectively but is limited by Algric's position in how far she can do so. Kelian attempts to grapple the mage but fails.
Fyrtor moves and tries to cast a spell but it seems he his back in the anti-magic field!
Algric snarled at the powerful mage ”Bloody elf! My son is dead because of ye!” All of the anger, grief and despair caused his voice to break. He ran at the mage, hands outstretched. ”He was only a boy!” Seeking to get his hands around the mage’s throat, the dwarf leapt. He had vented his anger at the orcs for their direct role in the death of his family and loss of his home. And Kazador’s shame had caused the fletcher to snap, blaming the thane for his failure of duty. But-for Kazador’s weakness, Algric felt that his family would yet live. And now he had the elves responsible for the atrocity within sight. The rational part of him knew that the elven mage would have a trick up His sleeve. They always did. But he wasn’t thinking straight. At that moment he hated everyone and everything, and all he could do was lash out lest he begin blaming himself as well.
Kazador, for his part, retreated into the zone of negation. The enchantment plaguing him vanished immediately. The dwarf stopped, turned around with confusion, and charged back in. He was ready to grab at the mages as well. But the second he did so the enchantment came back. Surrounded by ghosts, he fled once more...all five feet. With his predicament now understood he could do little but curse. And wait for one of the mages to be dragged in.
With a snarl, Nelly weaves through the others, trying to reach Túrion. Upon seeing him, her eyes follow his outstretched finger, and she alters her direction slightly, thundering towards the old elven mage, jumping at him with open jaws and intent to tear flesh.
Thanks to his false life, Muse springs to his feet as if he hadn't just taken a nasty tumble into an extradimensional space. The medium moves in tandem with Nelly, taking position right next to her to close off the old wizard's avenues of escape entirely. It's surprising, he thinks, how quickly you get to trust a giant wolf to not eat you, when the alternative is death by spell-fire.
Nelly attempts to rush towards Túrion, but finds her path blocked by a young elven mage on the floor held by Mel, Kelian and Algric.
Unable to move past him, she instead snaps at his face, attempting to make him stop struggling so she could move on.
Miraculously, the junior elf manages to break free from Algric's grip! Looking around desperately, he stands up!
The elder mage largely ignores Brolin and swears at Turion.
"You Avinoax scum must learn to stop interfering!"
He finishes his spell and a dire lion appears, savaging Turion with tooth and claw (28 damage). The mage then evokes an arc of fire between Turion and Brolin, neither of whom can dodge quickly enough out of the way!
Standing just enough in the room to not have to flee, Kazador turned his ire onto the summoned creature.
Two powerful blows struck the creature. No battle cries went with this. Kazador knee that Torag watched him, and that he was already failing his god. He had to do better, and he was determined to do whatever he could. He was resolved to die here with honor if need be. Living with even more shame was unthinkable.
With Orcish axe, Algric went into a frenzy. He hacked away at the elf, screaming obscenities. Every blow harmed him as well, but the pain just made him swing all the harder. He was a fletcher, and an archer only because it let him test his wares. Fighting like this was not his trade, it was not in his blood. But his anger was such that even an orc veteran would have been hard pressed to hold him back.
Kelian, pressed against the wall by Nelly's swift approach, awkwardly holds the torch high in his right hand so as to keep from setting the wolf alight. As the junior mage attempts to rise, Kelian reaches out with his left hand and tries to slug him with a gauntleted fist.