Vethran takes a few deep breaths and hussles up the hill behind his stalwart yet foolhardy companions.
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Seeing his cousin's illusory wall in place, Vethran makes more cautious preparations.
She looks at the fire mage. "Do you have much offensive punch remaining today?" "I have expended much of my repertoire today, but I am not yet drained," the mage smiles. "I have but a single fireball remaining, but it is one I have strengthened through metamagic so I will seek to use it only when necessary. I have little else to address groups of foes with, however. Mostly single target and small area spells. I also have a spell which will conjure a vast field of hungry tentacles, but such spells are indiscriminate and may well impede us as much as it helps. Besides, giants are difficult for the conjured limbs to functionally grapple because of their size and strength."
"Nothing I can see, no," the mage calls out as he continues to scan the horizon. "Let's make for the gate!"
With no immediate threats in sight, Vethran increases his altitude to better survey the scene.
Realizing that Illes' spell will not hold out forever, Vethran circles back towards the nauseated yrthak and unleashes a volley of searing beams in its direction.
Swooping into the street behind the Shoanti brothers and the others, Vethran unleashes a salvo of arcane missiles that pepper the badly wounded giant.
With the Shoanti brothers on the warpath and the impending threat of the yrthak apparently neutralized by his cousin's spell, the mage sets his sights further down the road to the remaining giants closing in on Alwyn and Hudak. Gaining a bit of altitude for a better angle, the mage rises up and unleashes yet another of his signature fireballs.
"Artillery inbound!" he shouts as the bead streaks in across the sky before detonating in a torrent of flame.
Vethran turns in the wind, sailing down High Street to view the commotion happening near the Market. With a sweeping gesture, the mage unleashes another flaming bead that explodes in the middle of the street, searing flesh and scorching stone.
"There's a group of giants sieging the northern gate and another group... two, it looks like, wading across the river beyond the sawmill to the south."
Vethran nods and takes to the skies again, surveying the area surrounding the gate...
Vethran intones another spell and imparts it to his spectral companion, causing the disembodied hand to crackle ferociously with lightning as it sails across the street once again to strike at the yrthak before moving to the other side of the building.
Vethran and his phantom hand move to the edge of the building nearest the yrthak. With a few arcane gestures, the hand glows with crimson energy and sails across the clearing to strike at the creature.
The mage zips back down to the ground level, seeking cover from the incoming winged creature. He cuts a tiny line across his palm, manifesting another of his spells before replying to his cousin. "The bear is fleeing, badly burned. There are winged... things on the approach, however."
From his aerial vantage, he relays via message to Illes: "Some kind of eyeless winged reptile is coming from the west. I... I don't think it's a dragon, but I'm not sure what it is."
Vethran sneers at the bear snapping at his heels while casting another spell. Upon the completion of his incantation, a trio of searing rays sprouts forth from his fingers and lance into the bear's stubborn hide.
After delivering his arcane payload, the wizard sails even higher to survey the battlefield.
By way of the message link with Illes, Vethran hurriedly mutters "Bear behind the smithy!"
Feeling a little safer under the protection of his illusion, Vethran again lifts his feet from the ground and maneuvers around the smithy to spot the giant standing across the road. With a snap of his fingers and a few arcane phrases, the air around the creature shimmers and solidifies...
The mage lands next to the smithy and produces a scroll from his case, reciting the magical incantations inscribed upon it. His form flickers briefly and then solidifies a few feet away from where he was standing before. With a sigh, he releases his command of the electrical wall.
"Until I tell it to stop! Thought I might mitigate the incoming boulders and soften the bears up!" the mage shouts in reply.
Lifting his feet off the ground once more, the mage abruptly turns around behind the smithy and flies close to the ground.
From his new vantage behind the party, the mage simply narrows his eyes in the direction of the remaining bears and suddenly brings forth a crackling wall of cohesive lightning between the party and the remaining threats.
Producing a pinch of foul-smelling excrement rolled in sulfur from his pouch, the seasoned evoker grins wickedly as the giants approach. "Let's see how tough these giants are..." With a forceful pronunciation, Vethran gestures towards the encroaching giants and releases his signature spell, a tiny bead of fire that rockets forth before detonating in the midst of the furthest group.
Immediately after releasing his payload, the mage dives down behind the relative cover of the Red Dog Smithy and out of sight.
Aubrey:
Illes: "Three giants coming across the river with four big bears in tow," the mage whispers.
"Illes! Hit me with a message spell and I'll get you some aerial reconnaisance!" Once his companions begin to move towards the walls, Vethran graciously accepts the spell from Sefayll and takes to the skies above Sandpoint.
Hearing Sefayll's rapid-fire suggestions and statements of her own abilities, Vethran waves dismissively. "Spells like haste and various mind-magicks have always been Illes' thing. Talk to him. I'm just the artillery. That said, a flight spell would be terribly convenient right about now. I do believe I have a scroll stashed here somewhere for just such an occasion..." Vethran rummages in his pack for a moment.
Waking swiftly, Vethran snatches up his equipment and hastily shoulders his traveling pack. "Wake up you idiots! We're under attack!" the mage grumbles before intoning a protective spell upon himself and helping his hungover companions assemble their gear.
"Are you a crafter, Mage Vethran?" "I am, when time permits," he smirks. "My talents are somewhat limited, but I do intend to expand them."
"I will need time... and rest, ideally, before I think about spending my share of the treasure. I've been meaning to improve the empowering sigils on my headband, and I think I've figured out the proper enhancement catalysts to do so. I just haven't gotten around to it," the mage sighs, glancing around at his companions. "Perhaps once we get settled in at the Fort, I can see about making use of that workshop I was planning. I wonder if Dravite is still there?"
"How bad is it? You don't look like you're all the way back yet." "Its..." the mage struggles to find the words to describe the simultaneously numb and chilling sensation that seemed to consume him. "It could be worse." He produces his spellbook, rife as it was with notations and hypotheses on magical theory, and opens it to the most recent entries. "I have, at least, documented what I perceived as my period of time in the afterlife. What I can remember, at least. I think these notes will help me with some new spells once I get a chance to shake this unearthly chill." Vethran shudders a bit, swallowing hard. "When life hands you lemons, as grandmother used to say."
Vethran seems distant and distracted following the resurrection. He seldom responds when spoken to and seems overly absorbed in his spellbook, revising diagrams and notations that he had previously written within it. After a few days (and a lot of sleep) he slowly comes around to a semblance of his former self and thanks his cousin and their companions for bringing him back.
Vethran carefully extricates himself from the angry hounds and moves quickly down the hall in pursuit of Alwyn and Hudak.
My CMD dc is 22. Tie goes to the tumbler(?)
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