Setting
A spacious courtyard is situated at the base of the temple and several small out-buildings surround the area. To the east lies the temple barracks, a formidable and defensible structure that currently houses the Knights of Le'thorian and their Captain, Arrow Flight. Much of the structure has been raised from rough hewn rock from the mountain itself, leaving it laced with rich veins of adamantine to reinforce the walls.
To the west is a large training yard surrounded by sturdy stone walls. The rich veins of adamantine within the mountain leave the natural hewn walls of the training yard well capable of withstanding a great deal of abuse.
To the north the main temple itself stands sentinel over the icy peaks, both tall and proud with its banner flying high. Wayward soul or hero to be, all with benevolent intentions will find sanctuary within these halls.
The Mountain Side Temple serves as the central base of operation for the Patronus, an ancient order of champions and heroes, and an ever present call can be felt to those of a heart to walk the path of the Patronus. With a vast array of knowledge contained within its library, the temple also serves as a strong lure for scholars and historians. Adding to the diversity of the temple residents, wayward travelers often pass through its halls.
Staff blurring forward, he struck a lightning fast jab at the what he assumed was the thing's center. Subtly, he drew on magnesis to draw the metal in the staff to the tip, adding weight and mass to the strike. Messor coiled himself nonetheless, clawed hand drawn in front of him.
All the while, the hybrid's eyes roved, trying to catch the telltale signs that betrayed his enemy.
But there was a scuffing noise, and the dropped sword suddenly rose up. The mans cloak vanished, now with a small bit of distance between the two of them from the roll her performed to escape beneath the chain. He took off at a dash, feet utterly silent, making for out into the main foyer of the temple, then for the front entrance.
Of course it was a trap.
Of course it was a trap.
But traps could be turned.
Messor stalked forward at a more sedate pace, eyes glowing brighter as the hybrid touched the other power in him. Heat surged through his veins as the electricity flowed within. He kept a sharp focus on himself, willing away the sparks that would betray his surprise.
Thus prepared, he began to run. Reaching to foyer, he paused, glancing around. Slowly, he moved to the center of the room, taking the staff in both hands and holding it vertically before him. The hybrid closed his eyes, turning to his other senses.
Come to me, you bastard.
"For now all I have is trickery and fists, so let's have at it." He took up a stance, legs wide to give him a firm grounding, both hands raised, palms pointed for Messor, as if ready to catch him from a tackle, left leg forward, left hand raised slightly higher than his right. But his trap didn't actually lay inside.
A moment later he was face to face with the man, releasing his claw from the staff to slash for Balthazar's stomach with a disemboweling stroke. Messor spun with the slash, other hand bringing the staff around in preparation for a wide sweep should he miss. Only in the moment of attack did the hybrid lose his careful focus, arcs of lightning shining between the talons of his gauntlet.
After all, if this didn't knock the man outside, then he could be in some trouble. Lurking overhead were the men, the seven he had recruited, masked, cloaked and with a bundle in their hand. They looked suspiciously like fireworks, but their properties were much less pleasant, more akin to a flash bang, with emphasis on the bang.
But not even close to far enough for the lightning that burst from the tip of it. Sizzling white bolts flashed across the gap, the thunderclap echoing heavily in the closed space. Messor allowed him a crooked smile. Dodge that, clown.
There was a wolf... thing. Attacking the shield. Dragging his mind through the daze, he stood up carefully, his right hand alight with flames, as if someone had turned a valve on a stove.
'Wolf. I suggest. You take a step. Back.' The words were slightly mumbled, making the threat not quite so threatening. It was obvious he was still not quite coherent with the world.
'No, you back off.' The voice was confident, although perhaps only from Reis' bardic training. Clearer than the last one, it gave the slight illusion that he was coming out of his daze. Though, perhaps somewhat dispelled by the way he supported himself against the wall. He hoped the beast didn't call his bluff, he was in no fit state to do any sort of fighting...
βReis? Messor?β Whisper called out as she scrambled to her feet, backing up carefully so as to not trip.
Vaulting through the small space between the dog and the Bard, Reis, with heroics that were rather unusual for him, attempted to tackle Malachi. Forgetting to do anything with his meagre magic, all it was was the physical force of the young half-elf. Certainly not weak, but only average at best.
βReis, get back,β Whisper hollered.
The semi-solid form of Malachi being bowled underneath him, Reis finds himself moving towards Whisper, tumbling for a moment before the charging tackle's force was spent.
Then, upon the shout of Whisper, the tumbling acrobat threw himself off the beast, and away from the magical trap set for the monster of the corruption.
Whisper slammed her crystal back down into place. Most of the charges had been drained from Malachi's earlier efforts, but they still had enough energy in them to recreate the shield. The trick would be to invert the shield so that Malachi couldn't simply separate the crystals. As the crystal rejoined the circle, a ripple of light fluctuated from crystal to crystal and the dome of light reappeared. The chalk etchings shifted like sand upon the floor as the runes rearranged themselves.
Jerking her hand back, Whisper felt her back press against the cot behind her. Using it, she dragged herself back to her feet.
After coming to a rest and watching the sealing, Reis shook himself slightly, the tar-like substance that made the body of the wolf-thing stuck in his clothes. 'That thing, was disgusting.' He announced, his irrepressable humour clouded for just a moment, at the things he'd encountered so far in this assault of the temple.
"Come on, we need to find Messor and get out of here. There will be others," Whisper replied.
"We need to talk. Without the... Back up."
βI sent them away, they bore me,β Whisper called down. She seemed distracted. βWho would have thought being revered and waited upon could actually be dreary and troublesome.β
"More accurately, I know exactly how to shake up the current Corruption."