Ceria grunted in pain as the arrow struck her, embedding itself firmly in her right bicep to the point that a strong shake of her arm couldn't dislodge the projectile. This was a slight problem given that she was right-handed and had not trained herself to shoot ambidextrously. "Okay, you want to play that way. At least now you've given me a reason to shoot back," she grumbled under her breath as she straightened up and nocked another arrow, wincing heavily as the arrow tugged some more at her muscle.

The goliath was by far the most obvious threat so she sighted down the shaft....and promptly poked herself in the side of the head with the shaft of the arrow sticking out of her arm. After yet another second or two of delay for aim readjustment, her wounded right arm shakily drew back the bow, marking and firing at the goliath. After loosing the arrow, her eyes blurred with pain as the motion caused the arrow to jiggle and slide deeper into her arm. All of a sudden, the affected righthand limb went numb and she sank to her knees. Arthera's voice had made her forget the pain for an instant, long enough to fire the arrow, but gods this thing had found a painful spot.

She forced herself to wipe her eyes with her left hand and stare down at the wound in question. Fortunately, the object seemed to have struck pure bicep muscle and missed any arteries. Gritting her teeth, she attempted to remove the arrow despite the red haze of pain that walled off the top half of her vision and the strangled yelp that followed immediately afterwards.

Surprisingly, the danger following his failed magical assault had not come from the enemies charging him within reach of their weapons, thus rendering the octopus' precaution useless, but from their own steadier hands - or paws? - in striking from afar. As the ratfolk's dagger bit into his left shoulder, steel gnawing at the cycle of the red ichor in which were stored his forces, a hollow gurgling sound escaped Ulor's throat, and his fingers painfully clutched the crystal in an agonising vice. His will was surrounded by the fiery tide of taloned crimson pain, the tips of its flames rising in claws to break the mystical grip of his enchantments. But the strength issuing from the dark, unsoundable well which the eyeless gaze of that which was beyond had carved within him was not to be overwhelmed. A pillar of spiral-woven resolve arose towering from it, shattering the flaming torrent and reaffirming his shadowy grip on the goliath's vigour. With something resembling a snarl, Ulor tore the dagger out of his flesh, bloody force dripping from the wound it left behind, and stretched the hand holding it out towards the octopus. The latter, forewarned by a mental nudge, briefly looked down with surprise, but, evidently not thinking it worth to argue over something of this sort at the moment, grasped up the weapon in a pair of tentacles.

All of this had not occupied more than a few instants. The tormentous grip of metal still pulsed in his shoulder, which was growing warm with spilled strength, but this was no longer the most pressing threat. The masked foe had drawn forth an incantation of his own, and conjured an eidolon directly before Ulor, though, oddly, apparently not with the intent of clashing with him directly. Over the blows being traded by the warriors further down the street, he heard the primalist call out to the rest of the group to focus their efforts on the mage rather than his creation, an exhortation which seemed perfectly reasonable. After all, the withered creature was likely directing the eikon and fueling its unnatural existence with its spells, and, if that was indeed the case, disrupting the evocation would shatter them.

Raising his right hand, fingers twisted as gnarled, knobbly vines, Ulor began to whisper in hideously disjoined and discordant tones. "N’gai, n’gha’ghaa, vahr-shoggog, y’hah..." The dread words from alien infinities streamed out, jagged and malformed, from a mouth not made to utter their kin; like the flight of a silent winding brook through an impossible horizontal precipice, inaudible to all but their target. Once they reached the veiled brigand, his mind would be wracked with a terror issuing from the cold stars of a distant void, a fear few, in Ulor's experience, could withstand unshaken.

Meanwhile, the octopus, which, along with the dagger, had received a fairly vague hint as to how it could further its master's latest plan, moved forth. Propelling itself with its swimming motions all while holding the dagger, it floated over his head, then deftly passed around the doppelganger and continued its airborne advance. Having finished his spell, Ulor returned his attention to the familiar, and once more his inward mouth spoke to its web of thought. What the octopus heard left even it, accustomed as it was to the summoner's oddities, baffled for a moment; but then, once again, it could think of no objection to offer to this new scheme.

Onwards it flew, weaving over the soil in a manner which would no doubt astonish its aquatic kin. Over the dirt and the ice, and near that Tal-ionis, was it, fellow who, Ulor knew from past experience, could at least be relied upon to crush miscreants with his hammer. Once it was sufficiently close to both the paladin and his savage adversary, it began to even further defy the nature of the form it had coalesced into, weaving, sweeping and wildly swinging the dagger in the goliath's general direction. While it was unlikely to land even the most meagre of strikes on a capable fighter, the sight of a dagger-wielding octopus in itself was as fine a distraction as anyone could hope for, and even the nuisance of a blindly slashing blade was not to be so lightly dismissed.



@JBRam2002 The human is up next.

As the Octopus nearly leaves the Drifter Copy's reach, the Eonic Drifter's staff darts out to whack it in the back of its squishy skull, sending it tumbling to the ground and disappearing in a poof of inkish black smoke. The human figure steps forward to Lex as the goliath's blow lands, jabbing a shortsword into his side. As Lex collapses to the ground, the human steps over Lex's unconscious form to approach Yvah, hitting her with his other sword effortlessly as she was distracted by the enemy in front of her.

Mechanics: Eonic Drifter takes an attack of Opportunity on the octopus as it leaves his reach, dealing enough damage to drop it to 0 HP (didn't roll dmg, min exceeds HP). Human scores a critical hit on Lex for 23 piercing damage. Lex is unconscious. Human attacks Yvah, dealing 12 piercing damage.

Affects: @Turbowraith, @Ms Ravenwinter, @Oraculum

((DM Note: Ghosting @Ermine))

Daisy steps back into safety from the Drifter Copy, seeing it has already used its reaction this round, and casts Vicious Mockery on the Hexed goliath, likely insulting his bald head. The goliath fails his save, taking 4 psychic damage and 3 necrotic damage. He has disadvantage on the next attack roll he makes.

Daisy HP: 24. AC: 14.
Current Spell slots: 0 / 2 1st level.
Current Psi Points: 4 / 4 (Psi Limit: 2)
Currently Concentrating on: Hex on Goliath.

@corneredbliss is up next!

Araerys's feeling of triumph at sending the human scampering backwards on the ice was short lived. Mere seconds afterward she felt a terrible piercing at her side, an intrusion in her body that was so painful it forced a yelp from her, like an exclamation mark to end her spell. For a few moments her vision blurred at the edges and a ringing appeared in her ears, dampening all other sounds from the battle as her gaze fell down to the handle of a dagger protruding from her gut. The wound it had opened was fresh and bleeding, dying the fabrics of her dress a darker red.

Once again in shock for the second time in a matter of minutes, Ary swallowed and attempted to turn her attention back to the action, eyes wide and mouth agape. The half-elf was breathless for a moment, caught in her moment of surprise. To her, this all felt as if it spanned an eternity, as if everything were happening in slow motion. It was her perception through the shock, she knew, as this wasn't the first time Ary had been stabbed, unfortunately. This was, however, the worst of the times. Still, she knew what she needed to do - for herself, and for this unfortunate group of travelers that were being cut down because of her. Araerys forced herself to breathe deeply, through her nose and out of her mouth, as she watched one of the males of the group crumple into a heap on the ground, clearly unconscious. There it was, an unfortunate cue. With a sharp inhale, as if courage grew in the air, Ary clutched the handle tightly and tugged the dagger out from inside of her, crying out in agony.

Through sheer determination she kept her focus, however hazy it was from the pain. She released the bloodied weapon from her hand and it fell to the ground as she forced one foot in front of the other, a hand planting itself firmly on top of the opened wound in her belly. Araerys made her way towards the unconscious paladin, barely noticing the danger that was so close to his body; she had a mission, and she needed to to do right by these creatures for putting them through so much trouble. She darted forward as fast as she could, minding that she kept herself as far from the human as was possible and still be able to touch her ally. She knew she would only have enough within her to heal him and flee the spot, but it would have to do.

Once close enough, Araerys bent down as much as she could, her small hand flying towards the male's ankle and grasping hold of it. She was panting from the effort and the aching in her side, but she pushed forth nonetheless, knowing this needed to be quick. Her bloodied hand left the wound and made a few hurried gestures while she hissed something underneath her breath. Immediately she felt the slightest stir from him and knew he was awake - her mission was done. Unfortunately that was all she would be able to do for him in the state she was in, and released his ankle. "Move yourself!" she cried at him as she straightened herself up, raced back towards the wall that she had been previously standing near and pressed herself against it for support once she reached it.

Gasping and whimpering simultaneously, Araerys took survey of the landscape through the tears and sweat that had accumulated in her eyes. One of the other females, the feline kurjian who had been standing near the unconscious male, was to be the next victim of that unrelenting human. Feeling suddenly overcome with compassion for her, Ary opened her mouth and fiercely shouted: "Hell hath no fury like a woman with claws! Show these poor bastards to their hell!"

The Eonic Drifter begins to rush along the ice, but promptly falls flat on his face. He picks himself up and continues his hurried pace, but is unable to make use of the bonuses from the goliath. His copy, however, takes the opportunity to bring its staff around to hit Ulor, and the two of them vanish from view, their destination unknown. The ratfolk snarls at the approaching kurjian, evidently not preferring the feline type, and sinks the blade of a dagger into her leg, hoping it would be enough to bring her down. But by the grace of Pelor...

Affected: @Oraculum, although you have no clue what's going on. You do not need to roll concentration on Hex.
@Ms Ravenwinter - Yvah takes 8 piercing damage. She has 1 HP remaining.

Next: @Ms Ravenwinter

Before Yvah could blink, a fight broke out before her. It was just as sudden as it was violent, resulting in blood sprays, ice rinks and possibly sprained ankles. That catfolk girl wasn't going to have a fun time the day after. Yvah had yet to even take stock of the situation before she was already upon one of their assailants with a vicious blur of strikes toward the guttermeat throwing knives at her friends. It was then that a cold, jagged and sharp pain struck her in the abdomen as a dagger wrenched its way through her kidney. She felt parts of her organs collapse around the wound as the blade left her body with a gooey schlick.

But then she giggled.

Force of will commanded her to retain her consciousness and she felt a wave of mischievous intent course through her. As the rogue stood there, sure that his target was decimated, he could see a terrible, uncanny glint in her eye as she stood on the cusp of unconsciousness. Laughing.

With a swift slide of her feet, she turned to her left at the flanking human. A grin plastered itself onto her face as she tossed her staff into the air and deftly breached his space by plunging her claws into his shoulders. They found their grip in his cloak and she hoisted herself up over his frame until her arms extended straight downward, her injured belly flexing inches from his face. Before the situation could register to him, her foot crunched into his sternum as a launching point to send her airborne. Her form bend backward as she flipped away from the man. Mid-way through her flip, she caught her staff and used her momentum to drive it upward and struck him directly where his jaw met his throat. Crack! reverberated through the narrow passageway as the sound of the man's jaw being firmly dislodged from his skull.

Yvah landed, skidding across the ice a few feet before her claw extended and found purchase in one of the cobblestones. She raised herself to her feet with her staff and with a slide, a tumble and a dash, found her way beside the new blood. "I can't believe that worked!" she said exasperatedly as she turned to face and wave at Araerys. "But thanks for the save." She popped a coy little smirk before her body spontaneously wracked itself with a wave of pain.

Blood spurted as the brute's axe dug deep into Lex's shoulder blade. He felt muscle and skin giving way before his collarbone cracked under the immense pressure of the goliath's weapon. He slowly knelt under the strain without uttering a single word, only breathing heavily through clenched teeth. And it was then that another one of the bandits intervened, and thrust his blade towards him, striking true. Not a moment later, Lex's stare went vacant and he slumped against the ground, clearly unconscious, his hands still clumsily wrapped around the warhammer. But it seemed it was not the end for him. Not yet, anyways. He felt something faintly pressing against his ankle and a rejuvenating wave of magic washed over him, apparently courtesy of the newcomer that had not long ago caused the gang to collide with his own group. A curious turn of events. Though it appeared as if the Paladin took no time to consider it. Instead, he gathered his strength, and with the injuries on his back and chest in a much better condition, he slowly pushed himself into a standing position, using his good arm to firmly grab hold of his weapon's hilt.

All the while, the feline acrobat had gotten herself stabbed, and shortly thereafter maimed one of the goons into submission with a complex display of agility. Fortunately, she had dashed out of harm's way. The same could not be said for Ulor, however. Lex faintly narrowed his eyes at the sight the rag-clad spellcaster somehow banishing what could be considered -by the paladin's standards, at least- a long time travelling companion, and quickly shifted his attention towards the still-standing goliath. Regaining his posture, he lunged towards his target, paying little heed to the human beneath his boots, and thrust his weapon forward with a sudden movement, meaning to strike the brute's upper body. His still open wounds, however, paired with the bandit's own armored frame, made it easy for the latter to withstand the blow without a noticeable effect. Lex scowled, and one close enough could even hear him produce a momentary rasp. Assuming a defensive stance, he brought his hammer closer to himself and locked his own eyes with the Goliath's.

Once more the air filled with static charge like that of a tremendous gathering storm and the discharge of crackling energy sent lightning cascading out in wild directions, all of which Arthera was careful to guide nowhere near her allies or those uninvolved, instead sending it coursing through the behemoth of a man that wielded his axe like some crude plaything. With no point of origin, it vanished as quickly as it appeared and left little more than standing hairs, ionized atmosphere and ozone in its wake.

This was getting tiresome, all in ways she was not prepared for. This woman was clearly more trouble than she was worth and had it not been for her willingness to see Talionis back to his feet with a spell, the primalist would have dealt with her just as violently as this had turned out when they survived - if they all did. It bought the newcomer patience and time with a woman who had notably little of either to spare, especially now that the drifter had done something to their resident occultist. What was wrong with this city? Was General Cavanaugh not thinning these scum and their herds? Were they really so short on the mages, the same which they displayed parading through the city with frivolous magic, to police this?

That was a question for another day, because the feline woman had, in one of the most bizarre displays she had ever seen, reduced the filthy rat-thing to a still heap on the ground. She hoped, rather wished, the damned thing dead, but there was no certainty with anything now, because the dumb brute had absorbed yet another strike of deadly lightning without much injury to show for it. There was a need to change tactics, perhaps assaulting his mind, but they were running out of expedient options; her psionic reserve was needed, what was left that is, in dire straights that might still come...

As they seemed to with one of the drifters approaching her. Defiantly, adamant that she would kill him here and now if she could, she stepped back to better block the bottleneck behind her that their group had come from in the first place, speaking in thought to the warlock with gifted tongue, "Daisy, mind the drifter."

The goliath roared as electricity coursed through him, and sparks raged in his eyes as he turned towards Lex. "You're going down! ...Er, again!" he called out, wildly swinging his axe. It missed Lex completely, carving a great gash in the road where it landed. "Stand still!" The axe fell again, this time deflected neatly off Lex's shield. Either blow looked like it would have held the power to send the paladin to whatever deity he believed in, but the goliath's attacks lacked discipline. Annoyed with his failure and the ice under foot, he strafed around the paladin, placing himself on the opposite side as the ratfolk.

As the kurjian that had fallen previously began to crawl towards safety, one of the shopkeepers took her walking staff and approached the ratfolk. "You leave them alone!" she called out, bringing the heavy wood down with a Crack! on the ratfolk's head as blood trickled down from the blow. It turned and snarled at the woman who immediately dropped the stick in fear as she realized she may have drawn unwanted attention.

Affected: @Turbowraith... sorta. No damage, but you are now flanked.
Next: @Mistiel

Ceria's cheeks flamed as her arrow went wide of its mark. Her cheeks had flamed harder still when she pulled the arrow out, much to her muscle's discomfort. "YOU ANIMALS!" Ceria roared., rising to her feet, face and ear tips red with fury. She nocked two arrows, aimed at the drifter who had shown up on the scene, in front of her, and the goliath just behind him. Unleashing a savage "ENOUGH!" she drew both arrows back till the fletching tickled her cheek and released. She simply stood there watching her arrows sail toward their targets, shoulders shaking with rage. The increased blood flow caused her recent arrow wound to seep red with renewed intensity but the look in the young elf's eyes was deranged and she did not currently care.

The sight of Ary sacrificing herself for their paladin had cemented her into Ceria's mind as an ally. That kind of bald-faced courage deserved gifts of protection and benevolence far beyond what Ceria or anyone else was capable of. She took a single, slow step forward towards the combat, green eyes blazing, rimmed with gold, and blonde hair billowing.

((DM Note: Ghosting @Oraculum))

The sights you experience are akin to looking at the face of the Great Old One himself: deep, unknowable, and somewhat painful to behold. You have no idea where you are, nor are you even able to determine what exactly you are experiencing. In any case, you are unable to act this round as you feel your being pulled from reality.

((DM Note: Ghosting @Ermine))

Seeing the ratfolk turn his attention to the civilian, Daisy shouts out an insult that denigrates the rat's nose. He falls to the ground, clutching his head in mental agony, and then is still.

Mechanics: Vicious Mockery on the ratfolk, dealing 5 psychic damage and putting him down.

Daisy HP: 24. AC: 14.
Current Spell slots: 0 / 2 1st level.
Current Psi Points: 4 / 4 (Psi Limit: 2)
Currently Concentrating on: Hex on Goliath.

@corneredbliss is up next!

Araerys, already aware that she wasn't going to be any more helpful when it came to attacking these villains, watched the battle continue to unfold with a pained grimace. The wound still pulsed in her gut, reminding her of its existence. Two of the four had already been taken out (thank the gods), but the two that remained still held their own, and fiercely at that. The human and the rodent lay in heaps on the ground, but the goliath and the drifter remained steadfast; the latter having just disappeared one of the group's members on sight. Ary's eyes widened upon watching him vanish, and reflexively whipped her gaze around the alley to see if she might be able to find where he had been taken.

Of course, he was nowhere to be found, and the half-elf swallowed in concern. Another surge of guilt washed over her while she wracked her brain to see if there might be something she could do to retrieve him, wherever they had gone. She could only hope that it was a mere illusion, that they were safe together and not somewhere on the other side of the lands.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the feline kurjian, who had been hit and was clearly so close to ending up as the next unconscious of the group. She had fallen back beside Ary, and almost immediately the woman's hand flew out to grab hold of the wounded girl's forearm with a bloodied hand. The other one left her own wound to once again make gestures as she hissed the same words she did over the paladin's body. The spell was cast, and Araerys released her hold on the feline's limb without really registering her reaction as she was already focused again on the action ahead of them.

The paladin was back on his feet and fighting, and Ary opened her mouth to give him courage. "They struck you down once - but that was only fire for this vengeance! Do not waste this fuel, let it lead you to strike true!"



@JBRam2002, drifter is next.

The drifter, caught between a sheet of ice and fiery anger, narrowed his eyes at the goliath. "They aren't worth the hassle. Let us quit this place before we lose more than we have already." He stepped forward, deciding the fighters were the path of least resistance, and brought his staff down on Arthera's forehead, a crack resounding in the air. "Let me pass!" he muttered with frustration as he moved on towards his exit. Seeing that Arthera was less than likely to allow passage, the drifter used the butt of his staff to drive it into the woman's gut.

Affected: @The Harbinger of Ferocity - Arthera is critically hit, taking 20 damage plus a second hit of 3 bludgeoning damage.

@Mistiel - The drifter passes you by. If you have a melee weapon drawn, you may take an Attack of Opportunity. You may also use your fist (roll 1d20 + STR + PB and deal 1 + STR damage, min 1).

Next: @Ms Ravenwinter

The drifter's voice dripped with contempt as he locked eyes with the goliath and called the haughtiest retreat known to man. Then he had the gall to walk back from whence the group had come right past her. As Ceria remembered the blood-soaked newcomer saving their paladin, a red haze descended over her vision and some devil in her possessed her to whip her right foot around in a hundred-and-eighty-degree roundhouse kick to try to connect with his bum with as much force as she could possibly muster.

The sound of foot meeting rump was an audible WHUMP! that was incredibly satisfying to the elf's ears. She finished her pivot, driving through her kick, foot roughly scraping over the rest of the bum in question, coming to rest on the ground beside and a little behind him. She faced the opponent, bow in left hand down at her side, and mentally prepared herself for a counterattack.

Feeling slightly invigorated by the mending touch of the bard and the nearly inspiring sight of the shank-happy rat dropping to his knees in defeat, Yvah was ready to dive headlong back into the fight. With a mock salute, Yvah said, "Thanks, luv," to Ary shortly before a blindingly quick step toward the Goliath. The fighter's flanking position backfired as his ally fell and found himself pincered instead. He likely realized his mistake when he felt a reverberating pain strike him in the softer flesh of his side. The wooden shaft of Yvah's staff rattled as it bounced off of the Goliath, just after the very end of the weapon sunk slightly into him with a well-placed jab. Yvah passed the weapon to her offhand as she stepped below the Goliath's reach by his side. With a swift strafe around him, she landed two firmly extended knuckles into the space between his abdominal muscles, almost drilling her hand into his gut. Yrk! escaped his lips before spewing his blood just over her head, blemishing Lex's already scarlet-stained armor with his viscera. Yvah then gracefully slid back into the Goliath's flank and huffed sharply with exhausted effort.



@Turbowraith is up and ready to tear things down.

Lex briefly ran his fingers along the newest bloodstain on his mail coat. A small, momentary twitch on an otherwise reserved expression once the goliath finally showed some signs of wear was all that heralded the coming assault. The paladin swung his maul backwards, as far as his hands would let him, and took a quick step back. His eyes flared up with primeval hatred as the true nature of his feint was revealed. In the blink of an eye, he rushed against his target, crouching slightly, and unleashed a devastating blow. In its' curved path, the hammer briefly gritted against the stone pavement, producing a small trail of sparks that violently dispersed as it met the enforcer's head. A sickening multitude of snaps and cracks was heard as the goliath's head lost its' form entirely, and twisted backwards in an unnatural angle, spraying blood and gray matter across the street, and possibly, at the unfortunate feline as well.

Bypassing the still-twitching corpse, which had been knocked belly-side-up, Lex readjusted his weapon's grip so that it stood straight, the massive weight facing the sky, and with gradually increasing speed, ran to Arthera's side, partly to aid her, and partly to cut off the spellcaster's retreat. As he neared, he proclaimed with a booming voice.

"Keep this one alive. Until he returns Ulor."

Arthera laughed and she not only laughed, spitting to her side as the drifter made his demands she move out of the way, she laughed directly at him.

"You are a coward..." She remarked as her eyes narrowed and her vision stabilized after the attacks, a deathly chill gathered around her figure during this, pulling the air into a dry, invisible cold, "... and you are weak."

A hunting blade slipped from the belt beneath her open robe and into her hand, meeting her palm with its weathered grip. Her tall figure then drew up her hands into a fighting stance and shrugged off the injury with unearthly ease; icy essence infusing her, she turned the weapon around and reversed the grip with eager readiness. Throughout this process, the blade frosted over along its edge and length, much the same way her breath was chilled to the point of visibility and her slight stains of blood instantly ceased to run. She not only looked better than the blow she endured, but she too felt it and not just because of her elemental call of ice - rather it was Talionis' felling blow and his vengeful onset upon this last attacker.

Not only was he alive, he had his revenge and against one of her enemies, mercilessly at that. Their enemies in all actuality, but she did not bother to correct the thought now. Instead she invested the mind to ensure these men were dead when they were finished here. All of them.

"Of course... only until he returns." She let the implication sink in, between the way she held the sinister blade to the fact she seemed utterly unscathed now and as ready as she could be to weather his attacks.

"Ceria, cut the wither down." The primal's mind flashed like a bolt of mental lightning, her voice ringing in the elf's head rather than her ears. There was no time to explain or elaborate. She had to move and act like and with the new instinct she was possessed of.

Seeing that her kick at the drifter's backside didn't make any lasting (or initial) impression, Ceria remembered the bow in her left hand. She brought it back up, reaching around for yet another arrow in her three-quarters-full quiver. She nocked the arrow, brought the bow back to her cheek, and as Arthera's thunderous command boomed inside her brain, she made the shot and it landed dead in the center of the drifter's withered mass.

Even as she let go of the arrow, she knew her fears about hitting Arthera were unfounded. The arrow whizzed straight where she had aimed it and embedded itself somewhere in the bloke's torso true and cleanly. The elf fist pumped in spite of herself, a feral grin almost marring her usually placid features as the thrill of the hunt coursed through her veins without her consent.

All of a sudden, there had been a stifling, all-pervading terror. A swirling, inchoate vagueness had surrounded him, engulfing the world and barring him from it. It was similar to the realm of slumber, yet also unlike it. This was not something of the Outside he knew; it was a paralysis, a clutching hand formed to blind and strangle existence so as to leave him at the mercy of its still, silent winds. Dull, ultraterrene pain breathed over him like a waft from timeless crypts suddenly burst open without a sound. Unlike the sting of the dagger, which he still perceived, if somewhat dimly, this new torment did not wash over him in the flesh. It lay in the very nature of this unshaped, yet not empty space, if space it was, fearsome in its very uncertainty. He was intrigued by its strangeness, yet at the same time the shadow of a fear the likes of which he had not felt since that day in the monastery subtly gnawed at him.

And then it was gone. Just as abruptly, Ulor found himself standing just where he had been, no part of his body having moved in the slightest. It struck him momentously, as though the realisation had already begun to accrue in the dim limbo, that the octopus was gone. There was a glaring, needling void where its mental presence could usually reached, piercing his thoughts with cold talons if they strayed too close. It was well they knew better than that - while he presently did not have the strength to do so, he knew the void could be filled, and his companion conjured back into being. Just as the wound in his shoulder, deep though it was, would eventually heal, so would that gnashing absence be gone.

As he observed the street before him, Ulor realised that time had been flowing as ever, at least for the others. Two of the assailants had been struck down, and now lay motionless, though not visibly mangled. The same could not be said of the leader, whose skull had been crushed through by something heavy, which he could only presume had been Talionis' hammer. His own party was apparently still standing in its entirety, which he supposed was just as well. His opponent or his projection, however, were nowhere to be seen...

At least, until Ulor turned to survey the other side of the street. There was the draped figure, attempting to make its way past some of the others. As his gaze came to rest upon it, the same fear that had been growing within him in the unformed place of stasis rose forth, strong in its vast and bloated form. That creature, whatever it was, was clearly not entirely of the worlds he knew. It had withstood the horror from the stars, and wielded such potent spells as the one that had banished him with apparent ease. It was more than merely a force to be reckoned with - who knew what transmundane connection it could have forged to obtain these abilities?

Yet, however terrible it might have been, this foe had to be struck down as well as the others. Painfully tightening his left hand around the crystal to still the nervous twitching of his fingers, Ulor began once again to recite outlandish words of power. His gestures were somewhat uncertain, and he almost dreaded striking the being with eldritch energies lest it retaliate with unfathomable potency. But no, Ulor thought, grinding his teeth to keep the encroaching trepidation at bay as spectral flames once again danced from his hand, not even such alien thaumaturgy as this could save an obstacle barring his way from destruction... Once the murky depths of its knowledge had been fully exposed to the inquisitive glare of his own.



@JBRam2002 The Drifter is targeted with an attack.

@Ermine is (presumably) up next.

The Drifter glared at Lex and Arthera, but let out a grunt as the arrow stuck between his shoulder blades. "Murderers..." he grunted. "You're just as bad as--"

The sound of Ulor's return and the subsequent blast of eldritch energy silenced the withered man, a necrotic swirl dropping him gently to the ground.

>Battle Complete! The party gains 1000 XP each! We are no longer in initiative.