Mimicking Ya'Bo, Sand also lets loose with the familiar fire spell.
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"I am curious how well grease and fire mix," Isandril remarks as he gets into a better position and, a few arcane syllables later, a fan of flames originating from his outstretched hands enguls the first two orcs and -possibly- the grease covering the floor.
"And here I thought it was simply a trick of the light," the elven warrior mage says as he tries to take a better look.
"It sounds like a good idea, Ya'Bo," Sand agrees. "After all, we would not want to run into any surprises in case we have to withdraw into one of them."
"Gladly," Sand replies to Theo with a smile as he starts to look at the pieces of the incantation the half-elf shows him and Ya'Bo. At the same time he writes down some arcane symbols on a piece of parchment, erasing those he finds do not fit and keeping those that seem to do so.
"It can turn bad if left alone too long?" "As for the brandy," the elf continues after his quip about the cheese, "though it is not my favorite spirit, it would be fitting to celebrate our victory with it, being part of the spoils and all."
"I think you would do well to watch your back, Ore," Sand says after a bout of chuckling. "Ya'Bo is sure to... return the favor, so to speak, sooner or later."
"I am sure you do not mind if I join you in searching this place for things both mundane and not so much," Sand says with a bright smile as he too begins moving through the cave.
"Curiosity is certainly one of my weaknesses," the elven mage readily admits with a smile. "One of my strengths too." "Shall we then?"
"I do not disagree," Isandril says with a shrug. "After all, there does seem to be enough here to both reward us for our effort and make the people quite happy indeed." "We might want to make sure though that once we bring this treasure to the Keep, that it will indeed be used to improve people's lives there," the elf adds after a moment's thought.
"A good thing Theo has a better memory than either of us then, yes?" Isandril's question is more of a jest really as his smile clearly attests.
"Ya'Bo did mention something of potential interest," Sand says. "We could indeed go looking for this ogre's lair. And potential treasure..." The elf removes the giantkin's coin pouch and tosses it in the air, easily catching it again. "Well, something other than this, I mean."
With his previous spell thoroughly hindering their monstrous foe Sand follows it with a simpler and more familiar incantation as a bolt of arcane fire speeds towards the ogre.
Moving just enough to get a clear or at least a better look at the advancing ogre and goblin, Isandril fishes out a piece of butter from his spell component pouch, all the while going through a series of gestures and arcane words. It takes only a couple of seconds but as soon as he finishes the butter is consumed in a flash of violet flame and a ten-foot area right in front of the monstrous duo is covered in magically conjured slippery grease.
A quick incantation and another bolt of arcane fire flies towards one of the goblins, the elven mage seemingly unperturbed by his previous failed attempt.
Isandril continues to rely on his arcane power to take care of the goblins moving towards them, even though his last spell does not quite connect.
"Fire in the hole? I believe that is how the human saying goes?"
And just in case his companions somehow manage to dispose of the two goblins with their opening salvo, Isandril adds his own arcane power to their attacks.
"It should work," Sand says with a nod. "They are notoriously fond of shiny things. Well, I think anyway."
"Scouting ahead would seem to be prudent," Isandril offers. "Still, considering magical aid such as invisibility is beyond me at the moment, it is not without risk. And as for me, agile I may be, but stealth and subterfuge are hardly my areas of expertise."
Having retired early, his brush with death earlier leaving him more than a little tired and at least somewhat shaken, Isandril chooses to have something to eat and drink in his room and study his spellbook befole finally resting, his mind reliving their last battle for a few minutes to see what he could have done differently.
More or less refreshed both physically and magically, Sand nevertheless is more than a little torn about what they should do. "That confrontation almost proved the end of us," the elf offers, one hand resting on his slender sword's pommel. "Still, we do seem to have recovered well enough," he notes as he looks at both himself and the others. "And there is also the matter of... ahem... leaving no pack behind," he adds in jest, referring to Theo's missing supplies. "Should we perhaps at least retrieve that?"
"Even if we leave, friend Theo, what would stop the hobgoblins from pursuing us?" With those words and a soft sigh the elven mage steps forward to support the halfling. Then he brings to mind a spell of fire and as soon as the incantation is spoken and the arcane gestures completed, a torrent of flame shoots out from his outstretched hands. And just as soon as the first enemy begins to burn, he calls out in the goblin tongue. Goblin:
"Surrender or flee now, creatures. Lest you suffer a fiery death!"
"Very well. But lions of all things, Ya'Bo?" A simple gesture and a bit of fleece later and a lion -or rather the image of one- appears walking out of the darkness behind them before standing on all fours, half-seen and half-hidden by the shadows, and roaring, its voice one of apparently many.
Staying behind for a moment and in relative safety, Isandril fishes a piece of cured leather from his spell component pouch. A few syllables and a short series of gestures and the leather is consumed in a light blue flame as at the same time a matching glowing field of energy appears around the elf for but a second before apparently disappearing.
"Very well," Sand says with a sigh as he sets about trying to examine and then open the lock by improvising more or less.
"I am nimble-fingered, as casting spells almost requires it," the elf offers, "but I have never had any training, formal or otherwise, in opening doors that do not want to be opened."
"There is supposed to be an ogre in here," Sand reminds the others, though he is certain it is not needed. "Still, I must admit that I have never thought of ogres as great organizers."
Finding no reason to change what appear to be quite successful tactics, Isandril summons another bolt of magical flame that speeds towards one of the goblins almost as soon as it appears.
Moving to support the gnome with his own spellcasting, Isandril repeats the incantation from a few moments ago and yet another bolt of fire speeds towards one of the remaining goblins.
The arrow's bite almost robs Isandril of his senses, but Theo's quick thinking and equally quick spellcasting help repair the damage enough that the elf remains standing, albeit hurt. Through gritted teeth he speaks a basic incantation as he moves the fingers of his right hand in a simple pattern, preferring to help cut down their foes faster and end the fight rather than put up a protective spell. There is a momentary glow of orange and red light and then a bolt of fire flies towards one of the illuminated goblins in the back.
"Admittedly, tracking skills are not something I picked up in my life," Sand says simply with a shrug. "I did not really expect that I would need them. Lack of foresight on my part I suppose..."
"Your appetite will get you in trouble one of these days, Ore Thornstock, you mark my words," Isandril says in an exaggerated voice, a soft chuckle accompanying the words.
"It seems to agree with the information Ore gathered at the tavern earlier," the elf concurs as he takes a look at the map. "And actually adding to the map as we go is definitely a good idea."
"As ready as we will ever be given the somewhat limited information on our mysterious destinations, I suppose," Sand, having finished with his purchases, replies to the gnome.
"Either that or the old fortress do sound like they would contain their fair share of risk and reward," Isandril offers as he aaccepts Zdravko's mug of ale with a nod of acknowledgement and gratitude, even if he does not partake of it, preferring his wine. "Either way, some extra rations cannot hurt. We do not know how long it will take to explore any of the two places."
"Quite good actually," Sand replies with a smile. "And I do believe it is actual venison too," he adds as his smile turns into a grin before taking a sip of wine.
"Oh, let the girl be, Zdravko," the elven mage says with a chuckle, his eyes on the menu. "Hmm... I think some bread and a bowl of venison stew will do nicely, accompanied by a glass of wine. And maybe some fruit for later," he orders, finally deciding and handing over the appropriate coins.
"I enjoy a glass of wine, preferably elvish, now and then as much as the next fellow," Sand says, keeping up the idle conversation. "But I generally do not exaggerate, so I believe I am one less person whose stomach you need to worry about, Theo." The elf sighs as they make their way to the tavern. "I do admit a slight disappointment as well though. No strange and exciting happenings, no tomes of knowledge or secrets. It feels as if our stay will be quite uneventful."
"I am Isandril of the noble House Velahrn." The voice belongs to an elf whose features hint at his mixed sun elven and moon elven heritage. Handsome and fair of skin, he has pale silvery-gold hair and almond-shaped eyes of a vibrant violet color with what can best be described as golden flecks speckled through them. Dressed plainly enough, his clothes are nevertheless well made and of obvious elvish design, though his hooded cloak is held in place by a clasp of dwarven craftsmanship. A fine-looking rapier rests in its scabbard by his left hip, while the more keen-eyed of the guards can also see a sheathed curved dagger and a pouch like those made to hold spell components fastened to the right side of his belt. "Friends tend to simply call me Sand though," he adds with a smile.
"I think bringing the old dwarf along with us is," Sand starts to say before pausing and then continuing, "probably a good idea. After all, we cannot know what consequences if any our future -or is that past?- actions will have in regards to this plane here and his fate if left where he is." The elf sighs. "Truth be told, this is hardly something anyone has experience with. Anything can happen and that includes Flarghin's fate. He may never have died or he may find himself in a world entirely unknown to him if or when we manage to raise him." He shrugs. "Honestly, any guess and theory is as good as any other."
"I suppose any light would be better than none," Sand offers. "I do have a compass that can shed magical light on command." As they walk the elf stops for a moment, apparently conversing with what looks like a centaur, if a bit on the fiendish side. The discussion does not take long before he rejoins his companions. "There is someone who is supposed to be able to remove diseases and curses close by," he says as he catches up with them. "A little expensive but genuine. Or so I was told."
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