“The wizard’s terror bolt lances overhead. You shout back to your party that you’re going in. Dagger held high and ice shard at the ready you tear towards the dastardly spell caster. How does your fight play out?”
A white bolt wailed like a clump of fog given life and tortured, the troubled cloud sailing over the crumbling mountain of a stone wall.
“Why’d he waste ‘is magic?” Lirn asked, broad, haired jaw trembling slightly. His ashen bow twisted in his hands.
“He wouldn’t.” Riesla answered. Beside him, she shifted her weight, scraping her already scuffed pauldrons against the stone.
“She’s right, assuming his magic is the same as mine… A diversion! We need to act fast.” Jesil’s knuckles drew white, gripping hard his dagger, the silver pommel peering above his thumb and forefinger. Blue vapors swirled around his other hand. “Ready, Lirn?”
“Wha? No pla—” A noise, half-lightning, half-tearing cloth, resonated across the ruined walls.
“No time! Go!” Jesil shouted, jumping to his feet and leaping a squat rampart of the shattered, ancient-brick bastion.
Jesil ran towards the wizard who stood in the center of the cavernous room, flicks of torch light causing his plated armor to appear as confined lava. He cackled softly as Jesil stopped like a snatched pebble from the air. Behind him, the cause of the noise, and Jesil’s abeyance: a Bursgest, its pallid chest as broad as an ox’s back. The demon tore through a cracking portal, leveraging a blade 3 meters in length, half the size of the demon itself.
The wizard cackled again. “No more games! Now you di—” Brick, unsettled dust, and a rain of blood burst into the air as the Bursgest’s sword cleaved the wizard in half.
Arrows poured from Lirn’s bow, pelting the Bursgest like snowflakes on armor.
“It’s no good, Lirn! Aim for his eyes!” Riesla’s voice called quivering, charging with hoisted axe.
“Riesla, stay back!” Jesil loosed an ice lance at the eyes’ of the Bursgest. The lance pierced the tree-trunk-like forearm, as it swung to protect itself. Bellowing, the demon flailed its arm downwards. Jesil’s dagger followed the ice lance’s path, plunging deep into the monster’s purple, right eye. Swarms of Lirn’s arrows assaulted the Bursgest’s face, plinking off its head before one found its left eye. It shrieked with rage, thrashing its massive body like a tree during a tornado.
“Now Riesla!” Jesil shouted. Riesla had already flanked the writhing demon. Her mountainous axe crashed on its near-foot-long Achilles tendon. The monstrous creature fell to one knee, its neck bowed and open. It couldn’t see the axe as it swung upward, dividing the jugular and muscles of the right side of its neck. One last atrocious gurgle fled the Bursgest’s collapsed throat before dying along with its master.