Aezophyl realized that he was beginning to be outnumbered and lacked the resources to complete his action. One of his opponents had used a spell to somehow slow him down; it did have an effect on him, and he moved sluggishly, exposing him to a direct hit from the daggar to the center of his wrist. It did manage to pierce, revealing what would look like oozing bits of lava coming out. His body did not work as a human's did. He would still be able to use the arm, but not for long if his essence continued to leak. His fire flickered on the wrist. How do these bastards have so much antimagic!
That became the least of his problems when the hunter slid under him, dodging Aezophyl's attempt to stomp him on the head and sending his foot halfway though the floor. The sword went through the side of his chest, causing him the first true pain he had felt yet. With a roar, he came down to his remaining knee, essence oozing almost like a fountain from the hole in his back and burning through the floor. The anti-fire powder splattered on the back of his head, making Aezophyl quite lightheaded from the dousing of visible flame, although the flicker of dark flame remained and burned the powder.
This is it, then. Out of the corner of his eye, yet another hunter came in, wielding... What is that swo- shit!
Raising his own blade, Aezophyl plunged it into his chest. Fire and small bits of lava oozed from it and every spot in his armor. As it began to come through his mouth, he said his final words to the group: "...I'll see you puny fools in the Abyss, then... the war has only begun..."
He feel forwards and collapsed on the floor, melting through it and crashing in the wine bottles below him. Visible to the group was a large hole, in which was a wine rack with every bottle broken over the now pitch black armor of Aezophyl.
Not the damn eye! Artholath threw himself backwards, greeting the ground with a nice smack and preparing to shoot his still-intact spikes at the impudent dwarf. An arrow bounced off the dwarf's shield. Looking back as he thrust his legs forward to knock the dwarf back should he be approaching, he saw a guard staring at him wide eyed.
He shot six of his spikes at him, all impaling the guard in the chest. Ignoring him, he backflipped up again and gave the dwarf his best attempt at a smile.
Zargon looked as Zargon was overwhelmed by hunters. He made a note to employ more anti-hunters in his army, although that would indeed be difficult. He had two, but that wouldn't be enough.
Aezophyl did something very unlikely and stabbed himself in the chest. Why would he do that? Manouvering the scrying position, he saw in the doorway a man and...
"How the hell did he get that?" Zargon yelled in his demonic voice, echoing across his chamber that nobody else could hear.
I've been looking for that since the Mage Wars, and a random hunter has it?
Shifting dimensions, he appeared in front of a very surprised Ghresus.
"I got him, I got him! It took a while but-"
"Shut up, you fool. Go to the warlord and do whatever you need to bring him in."
"I thought you hated that guy?"
"Things have changed. We're advancing plans and will attack this year."
As Zargon vanished, Ghresus could only stand and stare in shock. "This year?..."
