Sef tried to run, but a sudden scream and the heavy footsteps of an owlbear preceded a rather horrid crunch and tearing of flesh. So much for the novice. Then she heard Nuvyen's warning.

More of them. Shadowheart steeled herself, knowing there'd be no escaping the stench of death tonight. With just one she'd hoped they could subdue and keep him contained, but now that the numbers were stacked against them, they couldn't take that chance. Much as she didn't like to admit, she and Nuvyen were much more vulnerable as a pair on their own than they were when they were united with all the others they'd saved Baldur's Gate alongside.

[i]"Ira et dolor!"[/i] she cried, erupting with radiant light as she burned another spell. There were plenty to spare, given they'd likely rest for the night after this brawl. Glowing gold spirits enveloped and circled around Shadowheart, and she took up her spear and went to meet the two Sharran cultists Nuvyen warned her of. Being caught out of armor wasn't a problem her love needed to worry about, but Shadowheart felt a bit naked without it. She'd have to be careful.

The tiefling Sharran burst through the doorway, seeing Shadowheart rushing right at him, so he hacked his curved scimitar sword down into her neck, only to realize he'd been fooled by an illusion. The duplicate of Shadowheart dissipated into wisps of magic, the real half-elf surprising him from the flank. She rammed her spear into his side, closing enough for the radiant spirits swirling around her to strike and burn him.

She reached in close, planting a hand against his chest, fusing it with magic. [i]"Morē!"[/i] she called as the incantation, willing necrotic energy to flood in and open the tiefling's wounds. The spell was more than enough, turning the tiefling's formerly red skin a pale shade of grey as the very life was drained out of him. He sank to the floor.

Suddenly Shadowheart was enveloped in a thick fog of magical darkness, her vision going dark, and then completely black. She heard a cantrip cast nearby, trying to dodge out of the way, but the human's Bone Chill spell struck her in the shoulder. The draining force she'd used on the tiefling was forced on her in turn, an insidious cold that she managed to fight off, though she failed to keep the spirit guardians around her.

"Pitiful," the Sharran woman said, "you turn away from the dark, and now you look like a lost lamb in it."

Shadowheart backed up, trying to retreat out of the darkness, only for her back to hit a wooden wall. She thrust out blindly with her spear, striking nothing but darkness, the darkness concealing the Fidelian's approach. The Sharran slammed the end of her quarterstaff into Shadowheart's midsection, and with it came a torrent of necrotic magic, the blow empowered while the Fidelian was concealed in darkness. Shadowheart couldn't fight it off this time, and found herself blasted through the thin wooden wall and onto the ground in the next room.

Still in the magical darkness, Shadowheart struggled to rise, finding yet more necrotic magic swarming around her, beckoning her, drowning her. It was a cold that seeped into her soul, reminding her of what she'd lost, begging her for the release of absence, the sweet relief of forgetfulness.

"I'm not the Nightsinger's slave anymore!" she declared, channeling a Daylight spell into her spear, Selune's Spear of Night, suddenly glowing with all the brightness of the day. The darkness was banished, leaving the masked Sharran Fidelian plainly visible in the now battle-torn house. She hurled another Bone Chill at Shadowheart. Without her armor she had little defense against it, staggering backwards and falling to a knee as the necrotic magic coursed through her again.

The Sharran woman looked quickly for a way to retreat into the darkness again, but Shadowheart trusted that Nuvyen would arrive in time to deal with her before she could escape.