Shadow and Sand
Thirtieth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC
"Cower," Siduri
hissed, the word one she had been subjected to all too often in her youth, but over which she was now master. And thus did the 'lord' twice bewitched, a weak reed if ever she had seen one for all the iron he wore.
It's good to be rich, the enchantress thought as she turned her head to look upon the greater threat and the doings of her ally. This might not have been the first time in her life the thought crossed her mind though perhaps with the most relief. A blood-bight ruby flashed and burned to nothingness, a moment stretched just enough for the Myrkdreki to conjure a sphere of shadow harder than steel, hoping to catch the still gathering swarm as though in a vice.
Alas the things were swift and whatever mind drove them was skilled in twisting aside from the threads of gathering sorcery. They fell upon Siduri like a plague of iron, driving all thought of magic from her mind amid the buzzing of a thousand clockwork wings, agony of a thousand stings. Yet she was a child of Dis and the blood of Devils ran in her veins, and so the poison did not catch hold in her flesh as she cursed and spat the bloody things and whoever had wrought them.
Siduri takes 6 damage
As the mage burst out from among the damn things she realized two things—first, the greater Formian was not laughing anymore, and secondly, the lesser ones were quickly getting over their confusion. More from instinct than intent she did what every enchanter worth the name did in a fight, which is to say take cover behind someone who would be able to bear the blows to come.
Half-seen wings rippled through the shadows of the tower as Lord Piss Poor asked something in a frightened voice. This time the sphere spun true and the wasps were at last bound. She did not have the tome to breathe in relief.
"Do not Move!" The
command deeper than thought screeched across her mind, and she knew that should she had felt the power of it mind against mind she would have struggled, but upon her bleeding hand there lay a ring of adamant twice forged, an unbreakable guard.
It is good to be rich. The enchantress smiled at the cowering 'lord', but it was not for him that she prepared her next spell.
The air seemed to thicken like molasses for a moment, in the grip of a
familiar spell, though cast by an unfamiliar draconic tongue even as the dragon himself lunged towards the Myrmarch ignoring the spears of the warriors in his way. Keeping her pinned... clever, some small part of Siduri's mind that was not concerned with the workings of her own spell noted.
Unlike many spells in infernal this one started slow, started, soft, a whisper in the mind that became a
shout. The power of overwhelm and over awe... almost in the same moment that the Myrmarch's sting sank into Osyrx's flesh all half dozen of the formian warriors collapsed with a clatter of chitin upon stone.
Osyrx takes 2 Dex Damage
Siduri Takes 1 Dex Damage (from previous poisoning)
"Now would be the time to surrender," the dragon offered, seemingly not at all troubled by the venom running through his veins.
"Oaths must be Kept!" the thought-form rippled through their minds.
Honestly worse than a contract devil, Siduri sighed inwardly. "Don't bleed her too badly, I've got this." The dragon, being a dragon, did not listen and continued to trade slashes of his silver sword for barbs of the stinger, thankfully he was not quite able to finish before Siduri finished her next incantation
"Sand of Sorrows, Sand of Slumber, come thou forth and spin thine nightmares...." Once long, long ago this was said to have been a prayer to come forgotten fiend of the sands, but the dark god if such had existed was now long gone and all that remained was a wizard's enchantment, a dust devil heavy with slumber.
The greater formian collapsed, but the two did not have long to catch their breath.
"A pity to waste such a fine host," a distinctly inhuman voice passed through the lips of Lord Piss Poor. His armor was glowing lantern-bright as he dew his sword and turned it upon his own neck.
Fuck there goes the target. Yet to Siduri's not inconsiderable surprise his hand shook and the glow began to flicker, the sword passed awry at the last.
"Get it off! Get it off me!" the lord shouted in his own voice.
Qsyrx was nothing if not swift. No sooner had the words passed the possessed man's lips that he had sprung upon him, carving through the belts that kept the armor in place. Blood like quicksilver slowed from where she struck, but in the end the amour fell away with a clang.
"Who are you people?" Lord... well alright,
not Piss Poor in will at least, at the last asked.
"I am Siduri of Sorcerer's Deep, he is Osyrx of the Shadows and we are here to rescue you, my lord," the enchantress spoke with every sign of courtesy and a smile on her lips that was just a touch flirtatious. It rarely failed to distract from the fact that she still could not recall his name.
What next?
[] Debrief Lord Mallister
[] Continue on with the lord of the Riverlands
[] Write in
OOC: Sorry this took so long I had forgotten you guys gave Siduri a mind blank ring and that would have been a very different and much harder fight so I had to do a lot of rewriting.