Tales of battles in the OC (NWN)

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Awyn’s report confirmed what Arevan already knew; the area was empty but for the central room. He praised her for a work well done, and allowed the little familiar to go to rest. The brave pixie had been most useful in scouting the prison, luring small groups of unsuspecting enemies to where the young wizard and Daelan waited in ambush, and also distracting some of the escaped prisoners with stings of her little dagger, while the barbarian gored the rest with his massive double axe.

A satisfied smile showed in Arevan’s face. This well-spoken half-orc was proving to be worth every coin he had paid to hire him. Since they sneaked into the prison via the hidden tunnels from that rich lady’s house, he had barely needed to use his magic.

That would change now.

Arevan had felt the tingle of magical residue when they had first got close enough to one of the metal doors, which separated the central room of the prison complex from the adjacent cell corridors. Awyn had checked the door many times before disappearing and couldn’t detect a trap. The wizard suspected that another magic user had recently cast a spell inside of the room. What spell it had been, he couldn’t tell.

In the dim, reddish light provided by the sputtering torches of the corridor, Arevan checked his magical gear to prepare himself for whatever was hiding behind that door, while the barbarian tended to a minor cut in his left arm. Arevan quickly discarded the small collection of scrolls that he had found, foreseeing that he wouldn’t had the chance to read one properly if he found himself surrounded by enemies. He always had at hand the wand of Frost given to him by his late teacher at the Academy. He also had a wand of Sleep, and one of Fire, both looted from fallen enemies.

Putting his ear to the door he could hear at least four different individuals inside. Whatever Daelan and he were to do when breaking into the room, it had better be fast and definitive. The wand of Sleep had proven quite useful against most of the thugs they had fought in the Peninsula District and the prison. The presence of at least one spellcaster in the room rendered the wand nearly useless, as a magically trained mind was more difficult to overcome with enchantments. Arevan concentrated, searching that place in his mind where his magic resided, and considered different options and strategies based on the spells he had memorised.

Daelan placed himself between him and the door, and was waiting for his signal. His calm look gave Arevan the confidence that he sorely needed. He took the wand of Fire in one hand and nodded.

Kicking the door open, the barbarian leaped into the room with a wild roar, swirling his double axe over his head. Arevan ran just behind and assessed the situation in an instant. Four convicts stood in the far right corner of the room, next to a throne-looking chair. One of them was surrounded by glittering particles. There were also two other prisoners in front of the door they’d just gone through. Daelan took good advantage of the shock their sudden appearance had caused, and one of the closer foes was quickly dispatched with a single swing of his axe. In the meantime, Arevan pointed the wand at the group in the far corner and uttered the activation word.

A fiery bolt was hurled from the greenish gem located at the top of the magically imbued bone wand, exploding in an angry blast in the midst of the four ex-prisoners. The one Daelan was engaging got momentarily distracted by the deafening boom, the screams, and the searing heat generated by the explosion. The half-orc, already used to such displays of magical power, used well his opportunity and deftly cracked his opponent’s skull.

In the place where the fireball had exploded, only three burnt bodies remained on the ground. The fourth convict, the magic-user, wasn’t on sight. Arevan looked around, getting increasingly worried. He now recognised the glowing dust he had seen earlier surrounding the magic-user as a protective spell against elemental attacks. Now the fiend was invisible and probably readying a counterattack. Not knowing any Divination spells, the wizard had to wait for the other to break the spell first.

With a gesture, Arevan indicated his barbarian friend to keep some distance from him. They wouldn’t be able to spot the mage on time if he decided to cast a spell, so at least they should make sure he couldn’t target both of them…

While the young wizard was considering this, a deep voice started chanting, and a glowing pattern of magical symbols appeared in the air, over the burned corpses. Arevan recognised the chanting and shouted Daelan to take cover. A fireball suddendly exploded and the world became white-hot pain. Arevan was thrown aside roughly. His exposed skin was red and tender, and he was extremely thirsty, but he had survived being burnt alive. Silently, he thanked the wizard who had enchanted his robe with a small protection against fire.

Arevan got up slowly, not daring to look behind to check on the barbarian, and he focused all his attention on the magic-user. Arevan noted that his enemy’s own protection was still up, so mentally discarded all the elemental spells at his disposal, including the ones from the wands. The ex-prisoner started chanting another Invisibility spell. Arevan recognized it at once, and praised Mystra for inspiring him to memorise it that morning. He started chanting his own version of the spell, mimicking his foe’s movements and words. When they both finished, magic energy fizzed… and nothing happened.

The bewildered expression on the man’s face told Arevan that he had never had a spell countered before. Taking advantage of the situation, the young wizard called forth three magical bolts of force that hit the convict squarely in the chest. The magic-user staggered a couple of steps back, but was far from finished. Smirking, he chanted yet another invisibility spell and was soon gone from sight. No one memorises that many instances of the same spell, Arevan thought. The man was a sorcerer!

Now Arevan urged himself to think. No elemental spells would work, and he couldn’t aim any more magic missiles to the sorcerer, because he couldn’t see him. Arevan decided to take the risk of using a mind-affecting illusion. He ran closer to where the convict had been a second ago, and started casting a spell. No sooner he had begun, he heard the uttering of words for another fireball spell. If the sorcerer succeeded, injured as Arevan was he’d probably fall to the mighty blast. Concentrating hard as he could, Arevan finished the incantation putting his thumbs together while extending his other fingers. A cone-shaped jet of particles displaying all the colours of the rainbow shot forth, and hit the area where the sorcerer was standing.

The sound of a limp body hitting the ground told the young wizard that his spell had worked. The sorcerer was unconscious, and lying on the ground. Arevan went on his knees and frantically started feeling the ground in front of him, looking for the fallen enemy. When he found him, he located his throat, and slashed it with his dagger.

He then crawled away, breathing hard, waiting until the disgusting gurgling noises and the trashing ended, which told him that the man had finally expired. Arevan was exhausted and burnt, but he was alive.

He then remembered Daelan, and found him propped against a wall with his eyes closed, his body limp. Only the left side of his body was badly burnt, it seems that the legendary reflexes inherited from his barbarian blood had allowed him to avoid the worst of the fireball’s blast. Arevan checked the barbarian for signs of life and was amazed to discover that he was still breathing, albeit weakly.

Feeling relieved, and while touching the injured henchman with one hand, Arevan activated his Stone of Recall.

[ September 02, 2005, 17:00: Message edited by: Colthrun ]

 

Not bad. Post some more. Some talking wouldn't hurt but the action is nice.

 

Brilliant post. Such imagination is what makes RPGs worth playing! I look forward to reading more.