>>6196407More to their shock still is Lukas’ lack of reaction. He is able to continue the combat as if nothing had just happened. Guided by a ring of blind-sight, the illusions that are the greater part of Emíl’s strength are of little consequence to him. Emíl’s remaining power lies primarily in enchantments, which are readily defended against; most nobles and adventurous types including all seven of your party possess items to that effect, and some wealthier cities even incorporate Circle of Protection spells directly into their outer wards, shielding their entire citizenry at once. Such a battle as this comes down to pure martial skill.
And in such a contest Lukas holds the upper hand. He is by far the better blade. Emíl’s Heroism might hold for hours, but none of his other enhancements can - bardic music, Haste, Greater Invisibility, and Good Hope are all too short-lasting and his total spells too few. Each he uses in turn, but bout by bout, minute by minute, Emíl is worn down, and ultimately concedes to the finer warrior.
By the end both men are bloodied and ragged. The crowd seems to be holding its breath as these two mysterious foreigners appear as if trying to kill one another. But when Emíl laughs and smiles at the end then both heals their wounds and repairs their clothing with but a wave of his hand, they can only go wild.
It strikes you abruptly as they do that this is a world without even the most basic healing arts. What must it be like, to exist in a place where the smallest cut or scrape can be lethal for even the mightiest among men?
Soren, Senna, and Eva are met with a mixture of cheers and laughter, but you ignore them and diligently help your companions to shoo the crowd back from the edges of the yard. It wouldn’t do for anyone to get caught in some spell’s area of effect.
The druidess and her two challengers take the field. Senna is the first act, darting left to put distance between herself and her mentor and loosing a pair of throwing knives that catch Eva painfully dead on before vanishing and reappearing in their sheaths. Though she cries out, the druidess does not falter for a second, transforming in the blink of an eye into a golden-feathered Legendary Eagle and racing full-tilt away from the two warriors towards the other end of the yard, where lands and raises a wall of whipping winds to defend herself from missiles.
