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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 439302" data-attributes="member: 143">Welcome back, Maldur!Here's the 2nd part of today's update, with cliffhanger:* * * * * Book VI, Part 28Cal knew that the situation was growing desperate.  He had fired off a second acid arrow from his wand, ignoring the pain that sizzled in his bare hands as he grabbed the acid-burned fibers of the net to tear the strands and hasten the process of gaining freedom.  Finally he’d managed to damage enough of the net to stand, although the sticky strands still tugged at him.  He looked around, taking in the raging battle to all sides.  Fenrus had reached the edge of the net, and was hard pressed, while Pelanther had taken on the form of a bear and was pushing toward his friend.  Valor was gone, while to his right Benzan was engaged in a violent battle with three adversaries.Thus far, he’d contributed exactly nothing to the battle, but that would change, starting right now.  Focusing his thoughts, he called upon one of his most powerful spells, another haste that would allow him to start unleashing his magic in rapid succession...Only as he started casting the spell, he felt a sharp prick in his shoulder as something small stabbed into him.  He shrugged off the pain, trying not to lose the spell, but he felt a thick, soothing warmth spread into his body from that point, and his mind began to swim, the magic phrases blending together in a confused medley in his thoughts. “No...” he said, trying to fight off the effects of the poison and failing as he toppled forward onto the net. He never even saw the jermlaine that crept along the web of stone bolsters above him, cackling softly to itself as it loaded another poisoned dart into its tiny crossbow.  Benzan, meanwhile, had sunk into that zone of enhanced focus that was common among skilled warriors, every sense sharpening as he dueled against superior numbers.  His armor had already absorbed a half-dozen blows that would have crippled him he not been protected by the mithral links, but he knew that it was only a matter of time before his adversaries overcame him.  He could hear the battle raging at the opposite side of the net behind him, but did not dare shift his attention from his adversaries even for an instant. “Cal!” he cried, as the hobgoblins came at him again.  “Cal, you there?”There was no answer. The hobgoblin he’d crippled thrust at him with his dagger, still fighting strong despite having suffered a wound that would have dropped an ordinary foe by now.  Benzan took the hit on his armor, trusting the mithral to hold as he drove his sword mercilessly into the hobgoblin’s side.  The magically-sharp blade tore through the creature’s armor, puncturing his lung and driving him back to land awkwardly on the ground.  The creature tried to rise, but slumped back a moment later, finished as his blood oozed from the deep puncture.  The second hobgoblin sought to take advantage of Benzan’s distraction as he lunged at him from behind, driving his club two-handed toward the base of his skull.  But Benzan spun and slashed in a smooth motion, his sword tearing into the side of the hobgoblin’s head with a mighty crash.  The creature didn’t even scream as his head tore apart, and he spun into a bloody heap onto the edge of the nearby net.  The third hobgoblin had drawn back a step as his companions had rushed in, unwilling to risk an attack in such close quarters, so Benzan risked a quick look back over his shoulder.  He immediately saw Cal lying in a heap atop the net, unmoving.  “Cal!”Even as he turned back, though, the remaining hobgoblin lashed out with his chain, using its reach to catch him unawares.  The weighted ball whipped around his sword, locking back on itself, and as it drew taut the hobgoblin yanked back, tearing the sword from Benzan’s grip and sending it flying halfway across the room.  Fenrus looked like a marauding demon, his lower body dripping long trails of red blood from his many wounds, his jaws bloody from the man he had slain.  But the wolf was hurt, hurt bad, and his sides heaved with the effort of staying upright as he tore once more into his adversaries.  A human lunged at him with his sword, only to crumple as the wolf snapped his head and shoulders up in the deadly grip of his jaws.  One crunch ended his struggles, and Fenrus snapped his head to the side, slamming the hapless victim into one of his fellows, knocking the second man flying.  The wolf spit out the dead man and lunged at the armored dwarf.  His speed and strength had been sapped too much by his wounds, however, and the wolf’s jaws closed only on empty air as the dwarf dodged back.  Even as Fenrus wearily lifted his head, the dwarf raised his axe to strike again......within the force bubble, Pelanther, who had shifted back again into his true form, screamed a silent scream of denial......and brought the heavy steel crescent solidly into the wolf’s neck, releasing a spray of red blood that hung into the air a moment before falling to the ground.  The great wolf swayed for a moment, and then crashed to the ground in a bloody heap.    Benzan stared in surprise at his empty hand, but had to duck a moment later as the hobgoblin sent the spiked chain around again in an arc aimed at his head.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw that the remaining pair of hobgoblins had replaced their slings with clubs and were coming around the net toward him.  He also felt rather than heard the shudder as Fenrus fell to the ground, and knew instinctively that things on that side of the battle had gone very, very wrong.  He drew his dagger and feinted an attack, and as the hobgoblin adjusted he turned and darted back out over the net, rushing and trying to avoid stumbling on the sticky web all at the same time.  He only had a dozen strides to cover, but it felt like an eternity as his senses took it all in at once—the sticky strands trying to snag his feet, Cal’s body lying unmoving before him, Pelanther trapped helplessly in a bubble of force, Fenrus’s huge form lying unmoving, their enemies circling around the edges of the net to surround him while the mage shouted commands.  He felt something small hit his back and stick in his armor, but he did not divert from his objective.  He finished the gauntlet of the net and knelt down beside Cal, relieved as it seemed that his friend was alive, only asleep or unconscious.He looked across the room, to where his sword had landed.  The hobgoblins blocked his path to it, but they had not started across the net as of yet.  He hesitated, uncertain.A sling bullet crashed off his armored shoulder from behind, adding urgency to his movements. With a curse he called upon his own limited magical training, uttering the words of a simple spell.  For a moment he held his breath as he nearly botched the critical gesture at the end of the casting, but then thick, billowing clouds of obscuring mist sprang up around him at his call.  A few more missiles darted through the cloud anyway, seeking him out, but they missed him as he reached down and carefully picked up his friend.  “Don’t let them escape!” came the voice of the enemy mage, sounding distant and muted in the cloud of mists.  The surviving ambushers pressed in around the edges of the cloud, waiting for him to seek his escape.  The hobgoblin leader paused to recover Benzan’s sword, holding the weapon only briefly before shoving it into his belt.  He sensed something and spun around, wary as he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, but when he had turned he saw only shadows there, not an enemy. The hobgoblin barked out a command, and moved to join his companions, even as the human warriors came around the edge of the net to aid them in surrounding the thick cloud of mists.  Reluctantly, Benzan darted away, covered in the shroud of his ring of shadows, picking one of the side corridors at random, trying to run as silently as possible as he carried the unmoving form of Cal tightly against his chest.  Behind him, as his summoned mists began to thin to reveal only empty netting within, the mage gathered his forces around the bubble where Pelanther was trapped.  The three hobgoblins, along with the three surviving humans, the drow elf, and the dwarf, joined the mage as they waited, patiently, their weapons at the ready.  A few of the injured ones paused to drink minor healing potions, curing their wounds. Inside the bubble, Pelanther waited as well, his eyes burning with rage as he reached behind his back and slowly drew his scimitar.</blockquote>

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