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Message: <blockquote data-quote="The Watcher" data-source="post: 6001451" data-attributes="member: 6688472">Kneel Mindslave!: Volume IIISunlight streamed in thick through the small stone gap that served as a window. Morning was upon them and Worlds sighed as Wren's voice echoed into the chamber from the hallway; he preferred him when he was knocked unconscious. Swinging his legs over the bed and sitting up, he gasped in pain. The Golem must have bruised his knee when it had thrown him bodily across the room, a wound he had failed to notice during their stumbling retreat to the soldier's quarters after the battle."Wounded?" asked a voice from the doorway. Worlds glanced up to see Bahn standing in the doorway, fully armored and entirely whole. He looked amused. "I could help you know.""I assure you I can manage." Worlds said curtly, hand gripping his knee as he stretched in out straight, sheer force of will keeping the pain from showing on his face."You know you don't have to worship At'ar for me to bestow his blessings upon you. The sun shines on all of us." Bahn pressed, his look of concern pushing the psion over the edge."I don't need your murmured prayers, god-slave." Worlds spat back. "You're like a beggar in the street with your cup out. Go curse the clouds."Bahn smiled in return, saint-like, and left the chamber. The psion grimaced, then took a deep breath. Healing himself using his mental gifts did not come easily to Worlds. He was a kineticist, able to channel energy into devastating blasts at will: awe inspiring in combat to be sure, but it seemed to ignore the inevitable aftermath such violence wrought. Light slowly began to spill from his swirling tattoos, not harsh as it was in battle, but glowing gently, pulsing as he began mending his wounds.Ten minutes later Worlds stepped outside the small room, testing his knee. The others were beginning their final preparations for the day as well; even Red was up and about- surprising considering the grievous wounds he had suffered at the Golem's hands. He probably hadn't turned down the cleric's offerred healing.They met in the ruined laboratory around the cracked lumps of clay and smeared summoning circle that sat half completed on the ground. Broken glass bottles cracked underfoot."Well, we still have the upper levels of the tower to explore. Hopefully there aren't anymore of these," Red said, kicking a large lump of clay, "and it will be some easy looting. Chronicle informs me that he doubts we've met whoever made the Golem, so be wary of spellslingers. The good news is since no one came down during the night, I assume the rest of the tower is empty.""Not like a wizard to leave his tower..." Wren said, and everyone fell silent for a moment.Then, simultaneously, three of them cried out in unison. "Someone just teleported in!" Worlds and Chronicle looked at each other, then turned their heads towards the last voice, Wren. How did the rogue do it? Red's rifle was up in a flash and the party raced for the stairs.Just a floor above them...A sudden crack of displaced air is all the heralded the arrival of Tarian the Red. He gasped, and fell to one knee. Safety. The toll had been steep, the price so very high. Almost more than he had prepared for, but desperation and impeccable planning had gotten him through. The guardians had been resolute in their duty, but it was the wards, yes it was the wards that had almost been his undoing. It had taken all of his own magical might and intelligence to hold them at bay while he stole the gem. He couldn't have ever broken through them- not one man, not the towering wards made by the greatest sylvan magi in history. But his theory had worked, and the years of research and seclusion coming to fruition was enough to bring him to one knee by itself, even if he wasn't so drained and battered.Shaking he rose, he looked down at his fist, white with tension, still clutching the black stone. The long legs of a Scarlet Spider  sprung from his pocket and skittered down his leg. Yes, he thought, no time for rest. He stepped quickly after his familiar as it began to gather up notes for him.Before his hand could touch parchment though, he froze, back straightening. Only he could hear the sound that seemed to echo through the chamber. A warning spell, subtle, that he had laid on the alcove in front of his door. Someone was outside, and racing to get in. He had only half a second, and with a flick of his wrist sent the black stone sailing across the room to land behind a potion rack on the table. He would need both hands for what was to come.Worlds glowed brightly as a cone of sonic energy spilled from his gaze and literally shook the door apart, the cross bar on the other side clattering to the ground. Red kicked the door open, and Worlds and Chronicle leading the charge in. They had known anyone who teleported in would be a caster, most likely a Red Wizard, and he would not be a mere mageling like the boy with the toad.And they were not disappointed. He was just starting to call out words of power, his gaze of pure hatred fixed on the companions leaving little to the imagination as to his intentions.Worlds let loose a burst of electricity at the wizard, a second crack of splitting air filling the chamber. The wizard continued chanting even as his robes were seared to his flesh- a feat Worlds didn't know if he was even capable of. Chronicle leapt past, his glaive swinging in a perfect arc to cleave the man's head off.Before he could reach him the Wizard's voice reached a crescendo and a wall of ice solidified out of the air, Chronicle slamming into it. Even through the barrier Worlds could see the man fix his gaze on him as he pulled out a wand and pointed it off to the side.Red suddenly doubted their ability to finish this fight as the scarlet spider on the far wall grew to massive proportions. HIs rifle rang out, the spider screeching in pain, then jumping up to climb the wall behind the barrier of ice. This would be a fight to remember."Myr. To my side. Now." Tarian called out with his mind, reaching for the Thayan knight. Nothing. No telltale echo to let him know she had heard. He did see the glowing man tilt his head to the side as his mental cry went unheeded. Ah, a psion, a mage of the mind. A contemptible way to practice magic: let them burn at the hands of a true wizard.Wren tumbled off to the side, whirling his kusarigama, lashing out at the spider with the reach the red hot chain connecting his kamas allowed him to. He missed, and the spider edged its way above the wizard and barrier of ice- in the perfect position to protect it's master.Bahn ran into the room, mace held high, eyes wide at the size of the spider currently sparring with Wren. Just as he let out a battle cry, small blades of pure force shot unerringly around the wall of ice from the Wizard's hand, slamming into him, promptly throwing him to the ground."The Wizard is skilled, there is no doubt of that," Chronicle realized as he called on his arcane magic to make his next strike land true. The Scarlet Spider screeched as his glaive hit home, leaving a gash on it that spilled foul ichor. Tarian slung spell after spell at the companions, sprays of color, more blades of force, and gales of wind were summoned up one after the other, a maelstrom of magical mastery.Worlds watched Red slump back in an enchanted slumber, and Bahn curse as the blades of force once again slammed into him. The Spider on the wall danced back and forth, stabbing out at Chronicle and Wren, allowing neither to pass the sides of the ice barrier that kept the Magi safe.Pouring his will into a single blow, Worlds slashed out with his staff, telekinetic energy slicing above the wall to crash into the enlarged familiar. If it could have cried out it would have, two long legs falling severed to the ground behind its master. Unable to dance as nimbly, Chonicle and Wren's weapons made quick work of it.The spider shrunk in death, falling off the chamber wall to the ground to land amongst its severed legs. Tarian flew into a rage. Twisting a hand like a claw, a mote of energy sailed over the wall, lit like a small sun.The fire that blossomed from it was all consuming, sucking the air from the room and turning it to scorching wind. Worlds fell back, burned, as did Red and Bahn. Chronicle and Wren were blown backwards by the force of the explosion, the normally nimble Magus and Rogue crashing to the floor.And through the smoke the Red Wizard remained, his gaze at the psion unbroken. Worlds looked up from his crouched position and saw Tarian preparing yet another onslaught of deadly magic. Such strength and prowess; Worlds had never faced a foe that had so completely dispensed of the party's combined efforts.Ice dripped on the floor, sounding loud in the vacuum of the powerful spell's roar, and Worlds realized that the mage had melted his own ice wall partially with such a blast of fire. In fact the Red Wizard was standing in a puddle of melted ice, chanting.Worlds smiled as he pointed his tattooed arm not at the Wizard, but at the water in front of the wall. Once again electricity arced from his fingers and slammed into the water, lighting it as the current blew through it in a brilliant semi-circle, straight to the feet of the Wizard.Tarian's jaw closed fast and refused to open, his precise casting patterns becoming spastic jerks as he danced with electricity. Smoke rose from his fried body and he flew backwards to land next to his dead familiar, limbs jerking in the air with the last bits of life, mirroring the spider.Worlds stood, glowing with residual light, a beacon in the smoke and steam. Soon the others collected themselves, Red sheepishly refusing to make eye contact with anyone. This didn't go unnoticed, or deter, Wren."Sorry to wake you Sarge, must have been having some pleasant dreams to drop like that" he said, wide grin plastered on his face.Red turned away, muttering about magic users and not playing fair. Slowly they began to investigate the extensive laboratory and the treasures that Tarian had accumulated over the years. Wren grabbed up potions, Red had bags of coin and bars of gold. Bahn groaned on the floor. Chronicle took the wizards spellbook from his robs, many spells beyond his power recorded for the taking.Worlds looked over the room, reaching out with his will for items of a psionic nature. Arcane magic blossomed and flowed around the room, but a small bubble of a psionic energy, a subtle call to him from behind a rack of half finished potions. He reached behind the glassware, half melted from the heat, and picked up a small black gen, beautifully cut.And then it spoke.</blockquote>

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