Amalia, meanwhile, was at Nostarielâs side, trying to get the Warden back to her feet and moving. Nostariel didnât seem in much condition to be healing herself, so the other woman rapidly uncorked a potion and did her best to get her friend to drink it. Simultaneously, she snaked an arm under one of Nostarielâs, reaching around her back to brace her on the other side as well, bringing her to her feet by standing as smoothly as she could. They could not stay here, easy targets for Corypheus if he managed to free himself of the others for even a moment.
The forced movement was unbelievably painful, dulled somewhat by the numbing effect that the potion was having on her innards, but at the very least, it all brought Nostariel back to a certain kind of sharp awarenessâshe couldnât ignore how much she hurt, and the fog over her mind cleared much more quickly than the black spots on her vision did. She registered being supported by someone strong and solid, and quite tall, at least by her own standards. Though she didnât immediately know which one of her friends it was, she was grateful just the same.
âMâokay.â The sentence came out more slurred into a word than anything, but she was fairly certain her feet could hold her weight now, and she was eased back to the ground, and blinked furiously, trying to chase the blurs from her vision. She recognized Amalia, and breathed a thanks, halfway between words and just a sigh, letting her friend help her to one side, rather than directly in Corypheusâs path. When they were enough out of the way, she threw a blanket heal over the group, crude and nonspecific, but hopefully of some benefit anyway. Once that was done, she set her own ribcage until she really could move on her own, then nodded at Amalia.
âIâll be all right. Go help the others.â In the meantime, she would see what she could do about fortifying them against Corypheusâs powerful magic.
Another arrow slammed into Corypheus's chest, followed by another in short order. Ashton couldn't keep the pace however, as he was beginning to scrape the bottom of his last quiver. He nocked a third and nearly loosed before he grimaced. The arrows weren't doing enough to justify the shots, and though everything in his fiber told him to fire it off, he refrained. He'd wait until it would do more than annoy the darkspawn. Though he felt useless in the moment, Ashton quietly backed away and slipped into Corypheus's tunnel vision. No doubt he'd be more occupied with the others than he would be with a skulking archer.
Ithilian expected yet another blow to come after the second missed, courtesy of his allies, but he witnessed a brief moment of hesitation in the magister's eyes, perhaps frustration that they all still drew breath, despite the damage he'd done to them. They were stubborn like that, he would learn, and not so easy to kill. Instead of attacking further, Corypheus vanished into wisps of a smoke-like substance, which twisted through the air and back upon his seal, where he reformed.
Ithilian thought he might have a murmur from him, something about insolence, but the words were soon drowned out when the darkspawn magister called upon the other two pillars, returning the walls of flame to the room, this time augmented by primal magic in the form of jagged, sharp rock formations bursting up from the floor in their wake. He was no longer content to let his magic spin slowly around the room. Instead he now shot the lines forth directly at his enemies. Either he was tiring, or this was taxing him more than before.
After he'd crumpled to the ground following his release from Corypheus, Ithilian had gotten back to his feet as best he could, his breathing ragged. Nostariel's heal had done not nearly enough to mend him, and he cradled his own chest even as he had to dive-roll out of the way of shooting rock spikes and flames. They moved away from him after he fell, however, indicating that he was focusing his attacks on someone else, currently.
It was a strange conglomeration of the elements, in truth. When everyone had managed to dodge the initial blast of fire to some degree, Corypheus started shooting ice, the projectiles having the benefit of being somewhat faster through the air. For the moment, his barrage was concentrated on Lucien, and the first caught him in the shoulder, throwing that half his body back and making it difficult to dodge the next, which glanced off his temple, making him see stars.
Unable to tell exactly what was in front of him, he was forced to make his best guesses about where the next ice spikes were, and his blocks with Everburn were clumsier than he would have liked, more of the ice-lances hitting him than he dodged or batted away. Ice was beginning to coat his armor, adding weight and restricting his movement, and Lucien started to walk forward, if only to keep his joints looser than they would be if he stood still, but the effort was rapidly becoming too much for even his strength. Heâs be frozen to the ground in short order if someone didnât find a way to interrupt the darkspawnâs casting.
At least he could see again, he supposed.
Amalia appeared beside Ashton, drawing another knife from somewhere on her person and handing it to him. âThe pillars give him strength. We must take it away. I can go left if you can go right.â The two of them had the best chance of staying beneath the darkspawnâs radar, and were mobile enough to hopefully navigate the increasing terrain hazards cropping up as a result of hostile magic. They were also, admittedly, in better condition than most of their comrades, though in Ashtonâs case, that wasnât saying much.
"Okay," Ashton answered as he accepted the knife. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but what he wanted for the whole thing to be over, and that wouldn't happen until the monster that was belting them with fire, ice, and earth was dead. And in order to kill it, they'd have to damage the pillars first. He exhaled sharply as he made eye contact with Stroud. He wouldn't be able to handle the demons that appeared by himself in his condition. With a jerk of his head, Ashton began to make his way toward the right pillar.
Still taking advantage of Corypheus's tunnel vision, which was currently focused on Lucien, Ashton managed to draw near the pillar without encountering any direct hostile magic. A spike of earth had almost impaled him, but missed by inched and threw him off balance instead. He arrived at the pillar scambling on all fours, and he called out, "Get ready!" for Stroud, feeling that they didn't have the time for a countdown. The knife Amalia gave him bit deep into the rock, damaging the markings and issuing another shockwave, again taking his balance from him.
He then turned to meet their new acquantiances, knife pulled up into a defensive stance.
This time, there were three demons, all of them the rage kind. That said⊠they were all taller than Stroud was, and he wasnât a short man by any means. The ice on their weapons had also long faded, and the Warden-Commander knew theyâd need the help. âNostariel, ice!â He didnât have the time to look back over his shoulder or be polite about it, but it would seem he did not need to. In response to the demand, his sword and shield, as well as the weapons belonging to the others in the room, were coated again in frost.
Knowing Ashtonâs condition, Stroud knew heâd have to juggle at least two of the fiends himself. Straightening for a moment, he knocked the flat of his blade against his shield, gaining the attention, for the moment, of all three. âAllons-y.â Grimly moving forward shield up, he weathered the first set of blows by taking cover behind it, the sizzling sound of very hot demon limbs hitting very cold metal loud in his ears.
When the next one came in, he swung, taking the arm in question off the demon it was attached to. Rather than follow up with that one, however, he was forced to block another incoming blow, stabbing around his shield and hitting the second, purely by luck, in a vital spot, freezing its core past the point of motion and allowing him to behead it with relative ease.
"Three!?" Ashton exclaimed in mixture of surprise, anger, and despair. "Why?!" he yelled to no one in particular. The answer he got wasn't the one he wanted, honestly. While two were preoccupied with Stroud, the last faced off against the weakened archer. The rage demon lashed out with two tendrils of lava, slamming where Ashton stood only moment ago, before he dove out of the way. He reached his feet a moment later, though they didn't stay under him for long. One foot slipped and he found himself face first into the dirt.
Instinct was the only thing that saved him next. He rolled to the side, not knowing what was coming and dodged another lava lash. The dodge could've been better, however, as the flesh on the arm closest to it broiled under the guardsmen armor on that side. He hissed in pain, but didn't hesitate, lest he not feel the next one at all. He scrambled forward, mostly on his arms and knees, rolling out to the side when needed. When he got close enough, Ashton dug his feet into the ground and gripped the knife with both hands, now encrusted in a thick layer of frost.
He drove upward with the blade, and into the heat thrusting the blade up under what could be considered the demon's chin. The magma hardened, but lava still dripped onto his hands, causing him to rip the knife backward and out through its face, spraying him with a gout of lava. He turned just in time to avoid it immolating his face, but instead it hit his back and drove him to his knees, crying out in pain from the burns.
The demons on the other side fell also, and when they had, Coypheus descended once more from the seal, left with no more power to draw from his surroundings. âDumat! Grant me your strength!â He sounded more enraged than entreating, however, and shot a bolt of lightning for the near-frozen Lucien before turning to Amaliaâs side of the room and launching several spheres of fire at she and Ithilian, as well as Nostariel, whoâd been trying to remain in neutral ground, taking cover behind a rocky protrusion and weaving all the defensive spells she knew. They might be enough to stop some of what he was throwing at them, but she doubted it would protect them from a direct hit.
Before he could do the same to Ashton and Stroud, she stood from her spot and released the biggest ice spike she had the mana left for. It was faster than even sheâd expected, and impaled Corypheus, though not anywhere vital. Rather, it stuck between his collarbone and shoulder, in the thick muscle there. With a shout of incoherent anger, he reached up and ripped it out, though it had at least done something, for a gout of blood issued from the puncture wound it left behind. It might have been their interference with the pillars, but he seemed at least capable of taking more damage now.
His retaliatory spell was a full-blown tempest, filling the room with dozens of arcs of lightning, striking from the air above them seemingly at random. Nostariel dove behind one of the rock formations. âGet down!â
In the aftermath of a fireball blast, which had slammed into a small rock formation Ithilian had taken cover behind, the elf managed to slip out of Corypheus's sight, and get behind him. He fully ignored Nostariel's command; danger or no, he had no intention of being pinned down by the magister, not when they had him injured at last, and resorting to attacks that were growing more desperate all the time. No, he wanted more of this creature's blood.
A strike of lightning crashed down next to him, knocking him off balance and sending a ringing through his ears, but Ithilian stayed focused, ignoring the pain and locking his eyes on the magister's back, though he noted Amalia approaching as well from his peripherals, bearing several new scorch marks from her dealings with the rage demons, but still standing. He spared her a glance, his bared blades all the communication that was needed. Attack together.
Reaching Corypheus on his left side, Ithilian went low, stabbing Parshaara into the back of his leg just above the knee. Before Corypheus could so much as look down, he shredded downwards with the blade, cutting open much of the leg down to mid calf. His attention turned to Ithilian now, he prepared a close range blast of lightning, and was entirely blind to Amalia's approach.
Where Ithilian went low, Amalia went high, bolting for a rock formation and running up its slope, launching herself off the top to get the height she needed. The darkspawn was larger than an ordinary man. A knife in each hand, she plunged them down with all her might, one getting a good grip in the exit wound provided by Nostarielâs previous ice spike. The other glanced off what appeared to be some of the red stone that coated parts of the magisterâs body, and she struggled to find somewhere to dig it in, winding her legs around the darkspawnâs waist from behind to maintain her position as long as possible.
In the end, the best she was able to do was sliding it between a pair of ribs, withdrawing quickly and stabbing multiple times in quick succession, intent on doing as much damage as possible as quickly as she could. She was, in the end, removed from Corypheusâs person by one of his unnaturally long arms, which found her braid and pulled until she was forced to slacken her grip. He seemed disinclined to let go even when heâd peeled her away from himself, and so with the one knife she still held, Amalia hacked off the end of her hair, nearly six inches left hanging in his grip while the rest of her dropped to the ground.
He launched another blast of fire right at her, and she rolled to the side just in time, the blast catching her in the leg instead of dead center. She clearly favored it when she stood again, but she was far from done.
It was at this point that Lucien, weakened by a direct hit by lightning spell, finally managed to free himself from the ice, and ran at Corypheus from the front, forcing him to direct his attention away from the two others present to deal with the oncoming warrior. He didnât expect to land much of anything, merely to provide a kind of cover to the others, who could do damage with greater celerity than he could ever hope to in his present state.
Before Lucien could reach the magister however, an hoarfrost covered arrow beat him there. Ashton had dragged himself to the pillar and placed an unburned shoulder against it to brace himself, to fire what remained of his arrows. The arrow darted in low, and struck Corypheusâs ankle with enough force to penetrate the skin, and bury into the dirt beneath as well. If it were only the lone arrow then it would've been a useless gesture, child's play for the magister to rip it out again, but two more followed in close succession. Bolstered by the lingering effects of Nostariel's ice enchantment, frost blossomed from the arrows until his feet were also frozen to the ground.
With what was left of his ammunition spent, Ashton slumped sideways and hit the ground with a solid thump, finally slipping into unconsciousness.
Pinned, heavily-injured, and perhaps understandably livid, Corypheus went to open up the air above them to a firestorm this time, but Nostariel was quicker, clambering up onto the rock protrusion sheâd been using for cover. Shooting two quick blasts with her staff, she knocked his hands away from their positions, both encased in heavy ice. That prevented the spell, but she wasnât done yet.
A broad sweeping motion created a wall of frost, and a shoving pantomime pushed it forward, eating over the ground like a glacier in fast-motion, hitting the magister with the force of a warhorse at full charge, then rolling over him like a wave, closing in until he was encased in a sphere of bluish ice. With a sharp jerk, Nostariel closed her fist, and the ice prison imploded, crushing the darkspawn into a puree of bone fragments, flesh and blood. There was a pulse of some magic not her own, but then everything settled, and Nostariel fell sideways off the rocks, landing hard on her shoulder.
She managed to retain consciousness, though, and rolled over onto her back as the magically-produced rock crumbled away into dust, the ice still remaining on Lucien and Corypheusâs corpse melting away. She hurt, and her vision faded from red to black and back again, but as Sarra had once been fond of saying, the healer was always the last one done with the battle.
Sheâd need some help to stand, though.
The forced movement was unbelievably painful, dulled somewhat by the numbing effect that the potion was having on her innards, but at the very least, it all brought Nostariel back to a certain kind of sharp awarenessâshe couldnât ignore how much she hurt, and the fog over her mind cleared much more quickly than the black spots on her vision did. She registered being supported by someone strong and solid, and quite tall, at least by her own standards. Though she didnât immediately know which one of her friends it was, she was grateful just the same.
âMâokay.â The sentence came out more slurred into a word than anything, but she was fairly certain her feet could hold her weight now, and she was eased back to the ground, and blinked furiously, trying to chase the blurs from her vision. She recognized Amalia, and breathed a thanks, halfway between words and just a sigh, letting her friend help her to one side, rather than directly in Corypheusâs path. When they were enough out of the way, she threw a blanket heal over the group, crude and nonspecific, but hopefully of some benefit anyway. Once that was done, she set her own ribcage until she really could move on her own, then nodded at Amalia.
âIâll be all right. Go help the others.â In the meantime, she would see what she could do about fortifying them against Corypheusâs powerful magic.
Another arrow slammed into Corypheus's chest, followed by another in short order. Ashton couldn't keep the pace however, as he was beginning to scrape the bottom of his last quiver. He nocked a third and nearly loosed before he grimaced. The arrows weren't doing enough to justify the shots, and though everything in his fiber told him to fire it off, he refrained. He'd wait until it would do more than annoy the darkspawn. Though he felt useless in the moment, Ashton quietly backed away and slipped into Corypheus's tunnel vision. No doubt he'd be more occupied with the others than he would be with a skulking archer.
Ithilian expected yet another blow to come after the second missed, courtesy of his allies, but he witnessed a brief moment of hesitation in the magister's eyes, perhaps frustration that they all still drew breath, despite the damage he'd done to them. They were stubborn like that, he would learn, and not so easy to kill. Instead of attacking further, Corypheus vanished into wisps of a smoke-like substance, which twisted through the air and back upon his seal, where he reformed.
Ithilian thought he might have a murmur from him, something about insolence, but the words were soon drowned out when the darkspawn magister called upon the other two pillars, returning the walls of flame to the room, this time augmented by primal magic in the form of jagged, sharp rock formations bursting up from the floor in their wake. He was no longer content to let his magic spin slowly around the room. Instead he now shot the lines forth directly at his enemies. Either he was tiring, or this was taxing him more than before.
After he'd crumpled to the ground following his release from Corypheus, Ithilian had gotten back to his feet as best he could, his breathing ragged. Nostariel's heal had done not nearly enough to mend him, and he cradled his own chest even as he had to dive-roll out of the way of shooting rock spikes and flames. They moved away from him after he fell, however, indicating that he was focusing his attacks on someone else, currently.
It was a strange conglomeration of the elements, in truth. When everyone had managed to dodge the initial blast of fire to some degree, Corypheus started shooting ice, the projectiles having the benefit of being somewhat faster through the air. For the moment, his barrage was concentrated on Lucien, and the first caught him in the shoulder, throwing that half his body back and making it difficult to dodge the next, which glanced off his temple, making him see stars.
Unable to tell exactly what was in front of him, he was forced to make his best guesses about where the next ice spikes were, and his blocks with Everburn were clumsier than he would have liked, more of the ice-lances hitting him than he dodged or batted away. Ice was beginning to coat his armor, adding weight and restricting his movement, and Lucien started to walk forward, if only to keep his joints looser than they would be if he stood still, but the effort was rapidly becoming too much for even his strength. Heâs be frozen to the ground in short order if someone didnât find a way to interrupt the darkspawnâs casting.
At least he could see again, he supposed.
Amalia appeared beside Ashton, drawing another knife from somewhere on her person and handing it to him. âThe pillars give him strength. We must take it away. I can go left if you can go right.â The two of them had the best chance of staying beneath the darkspawnâs radar, and were mobile enough to hopefully navigate the increasing terrain hazards cropping up as a result of hostile magic. They were also, admittedly, in better condition than most of their comrades, though in Ashtonâs case, that wasnât saying much.
"Okay," Ashton answered as he accepted the knife. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but what he wanted for the whole thing to be over, and that wouldn't happen until the monster that was belting them with fire, ice, and earth was dead. And in order to kill it, they'd have to damage the pillars first. He exhaled sharply as he made eye contact with Stroud. He wouldn't be able to handle the demons that appeared by himself in his condition. With a jerk of his head, Ashton began to make his way toward the right pillar.
Still taking advantage of Corypheus's tunnel vision, which was currently focused on Lucien, Ashton managed to draw near the pillar without encountering any direct hostile magic. A spike of earth had almost impaled him, but missed by inched and threw him off balance instead. He arrived at the pillar scambling on all fours, and he called out, "Get ready!" for Stroud, feeling that they didn't have the time for a countdown. The knife Amalia gave him bit deep into the rock, damaging the markings and issuing another shockwave, again taking his balance from him.
He then turned to meet their new acquantiances, knife pulled up into a defensive stance.
This time, there were three demons, all of them the rage kind. That said⊠they were all taller than Stroud was, and he wasnât a short man by any means. The ice on their weapons had also long faded, and the Warden-Commander knew theyâd need the help. âNostariel, ice!â He didnât have the time to look back over his shoulder or be polite about it, but it would seem he did not need to. In response to the demand, his sword and shield, as well as the weapons belonging to the others in the room, were coated again in frost.
Knowing Ashtonâs condition, Stroud knew heâd have to juggle at least two of the fiends himself. Straightening for a moment, he knocked the flat of his blade against his shield, gaining the attention, for the moment, of all three. âAllons-y.â Grimly moving forward shield up, he weathered the first set of blows by taking cover behind it, the sizzling sound of very hot demon limbs hitting very cold metal loud in his ears.
When the next one came in, he swung, taking the arm in question off the demon it was attached to. Rather than follow up with that one, however, he was forced to block another incoming blow, stabbing around his shield and hitting the second, purely by luck, in a vital spot, freezing its core past the point of motion and allowing him to behead it with relative ease.
"Three!?" Ashton exclaimed in mixture of surprise, anger, and despair. "Why?!" he yelled to no one in particular. The answer he got wasn't the one he wanted, honestly. While two were preoccupied with Stroud, the last faced off against the weakened archer. The rage demon lashed out with two tendrils of lava, slamming where Ashton stood only moment ago, before he dove out of the way. He reached his feet a moment later, though they didn't stay under him for long. One foot slipped and he found himself face first into the dirt.
Instinct was the only thing that saved him next. He rolled to the side, not knowing what was coming and dodged another lava lash. The dodge could've been better, however, as the flesh on the arm closest to it broiled under the guardsmen armor on that side. He hissed in pain, but didn't hesitate, lest he not feel the next one at all. He scrambled forward, mostly on his arms and knees, rolling out to the side when needed. When he got close enough, Ashton dug his feet into the ground and gripped the knife with both hands, now encrusted in a thick layer of frost.
He drove upward with the blade, and into the heat thrusting the blade up under what could be considered the demon's chin. The magma hardened, but lava still dripped onto his hands, causing him to rip the knife backward and out through its face, spraying him with a gout of lava. He turned just in time to avoid it immolating his face, but instead it hit his back and drove him to his knees, crying out in pain from the burns.
The demons on the other side fell also, and when they had, Coypheus descended once more from the seal, left with no more power to draw from his surroundings. âDumat! Grant me your strength!â He sounded more enraged than entreating, however, and shot a bolt of lightning for the near-frozen Lucien before turning to Amaliaâs side of the room and launching several spheres of fire at she and Ithilian, as well as Nostariel, whoâd been trying to remain in neutral ground, taking cover behind a rocky protrusion and weaving all the defensive spells she knew. They might be enough to stop some of what he was throwing at them, but she doubted it would protect them from a direct hit.
Before he could do the same to Ashton and Stroud, she stood from her spot and released the biggest ice spike she had the mana left for. It was faster than even sheâd expected, and impaled Corypheus, though not anywhere vital. Rather, it stuck between his collarbone and shoulder, in the thick muscle there. With a shout of incoherent anger, he reached up and ripped it out, though it had at least done something, for a gout of blood issued from the puncture wound it left behind. It might have been their interference with the pillars, but he seemed at least capable of taking more damage now.
His retaliatory spell was a full-blown tempest, filling the room with dozens of arcs of lightning, striking from the air above them seemingly at random. Nostariel dove behind one of the rock formations. âGet down!â
In the aftermath of a fireball blast, which had slammed into a small rock formation Ithilian had taken cover behind, the elf managed to slip out of Corypheus's sight, and get behind him. He fully ignored Nostariel's command; danger or no, he had no intention of being pinned down by the magister, not when they had him injured at last, and resorting to attacks that were growing more desperate all the time. No, he wanted more of this creature's blood.
A strike of lightning crashed down next to him, knocking him off balance and sending a ringing through his ears, but Ithilian stayed focused, ignoring the pain and locking his eyes on the magister's back, though he noted Amalia approaching as well from his peripherals, bearing several new scorch marks from her dealings with the rage demons, but still standing. He spared her a glance, his bared blades all the communication that was needed. Attack together.
Reaching Corypheus on his left side, Ithilian went low, stabbing Parshaara into the back of his leg just above the knee. Before Corypheus could so much as look down, he shredded downwards with the blade, cutting open much of the leg down to mid calf. His attention turned to Ithilian now, he prepared a close range blast of lightning, and was entirely blind to Amalia's approach.
Where Ithilian went low, Amalia went high, bolting for a rock formation and running up its slope, launching herself off the top to get the height she needed. The darkspawn was larger than an ordinary man. A knife in each hand, she plunged them down with all her might, one getting a good grip in the exit wound provided by Nostarielâs previous ice spike. The other glanced off what appeared to be some of the red stone that coated parts of the magisterâs body, and she struggled to find somewhere to dig it in, winding her legs around the darkspawnâs waist from behind to maintain her position as long as possible.
In the end, the best she was able to do was sliding it between a pair of ribs, withdrawing quickly and stabbing multiple times in quick succession, intent on doing as much damage as possible as quickly as she could. She was, in the end, removed from Corypheusâs person by one of his unnaturally long arms, which found her braid and pulled until she was forced to slacken her grip. He seemed disinclined to let go even when heâd peeled her away from himself, and so with the one knife she still held, Amalia hacked off the end of her hair, nearly six inches left hanging in his grip while the rest of her dropped to the ground.
He launched another blast of fire right at her, and she rolled to the side just in time, the blast catching her in the leg instead of dead center. She clearly favored it when she stood again, but she was far from done.
It was at this point that Lucien, weakened by a direct hit by lightning spell, finally managed to free himself from the ice, and ran at Corypheus from the front, forcing him to direct his attention away from the two others present to deal with the oncoming warrior. He didnât expect to land much of anything, merely to provide a kind of cover to the others, who could do damage with greater celerity than he could ever hope to in his present state.
Before Lucien could reach the magister however, an hoarfrost covered arrow beat him there. Ashton had dragged himself to the pillar and placed an unburned shoulder against it to brace himself, to fire what remained of his arrows. The arrow darted in low, and struck Corypheusâs ankle with enough force to penetrate the skin, and bury into the dirt beneath as well. If it were only the lone arrow then it would've been a useless gesture, child's play for the magister to rip it out again, but two more followed in close succession. Bolstered by the lingering effects of Nostariel's ice enchantment, frost blossomed from the arrows until his feet were also frozen to the ground.
With what was left of his ammunition spent, Ashton slumped sideways and hit the ground with a solid thump, finally slipping into unconsciousness.
Pinned, heavily-injured, and perhaps understandably livid, Corypheus went to open up the air above them to a firestorm this time, but Nostariel was quicker, clambering up onto the rock protrusion sheâd been using for cover. Shooting two quick blasts with her staff, she knocked his hands away from their positions, both encased in heavy ice. That prevented the spell, but she wasnât done yet.
A broad sweeping motion created a wall of frost, and a shoving pantomime pushed it forward, eating over the ground like a glacier in fast-motion, hitting the magister with the force of a warhorse at full charge, then rolling over him like a wave, closing in until he was encased in a sphere of bluish ice. With a sharp jerk, Nostariel closed her fist, and the ice prison imploded, crushing the darkspawn into a puree of bone fragments, flesh and blood. There was a pulse of some magic not her own, but then everything settled, and Nostariel fell sideways off the rocks, landing hard on her shoulder.
She managed to retain consciousness, though, and rolled over onto her back as the magically-produced rock crumbled away into dust, the ice still remaining on Lucien and Corypheusâs corpse melting away. She hurt, and her vision faded from red to black and back again, but as Sarra had once been fond of saying, the healer was always the last one done with the battle.
Sheâd need some help to stand, though.
The Chanter's Board has been updated. A Genealogy of Sacrifice has been completed.