Quoted By:
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-b">Damien's Spellcraft 39 vs DC 35</span></span>
"I would not have you weave, but unravel," you tell him. With the time that has passed, the subtleties of the barrier's scent have made themselves apparent. It is a necromantic thing, a trap laid for those who understood the dangers posed by the graveyard, but had no means to sense the presence of magic. It produces a withering that would turn even the heartiest of men to ash, if exposed to it for too long. "Can your heresies undo this barrier?"
"Can a duck float across a pond?" Damien asks you in turn. With a flourish, he takes his hooked daggers and cuts at the air. "A curse woven to this size would take half a dozen of the King's finest siege-breakers half a day's work to crack. Luckily, you have me."
Boric coughs, finally able to raise his head - if only just. "Luckier still that the darkspawn haven't felt the heaviness in the air and swarmed us all."
Your men at arms groan in agreement with Boric.
With crossed arms about your stomach, you stare intently at Damien's work. With each pick of his hooks, a flash of magenta fills the air with a light that ought not be. The scent of necromancy fades, bit by bit, still hanging over the graveyard like a curtain of dread and death. Boric's point is well made, and you tell Damien such, "Do work quickly. However useful those eyes may be, Boric is right - subtle, they are not."
"I am almost done, Dame Louise," the heretic assures you. A few more picks, and a gust of fresh air disturbs the stagnant magic. "You ought ready you horn. If the Lord of Wisdom's blessing is unsubtle, then the collapse of the barrier will be like the ringing of the hour's bell. They will not know where we come from, but there will be no doubt of our arrival."
You nod at him, and turn to your men. Boric's hand is already upon his sword, and the others have begun to drag themselves up against the terrible weight of... you will <span class="mu-i">not</span> call it 'divine presence'. A terrible heresy. "Be ready to be on your feet, men. Damien, seal those eyes the moment the barrier comes down. As soon as the defenses break, we sound the horn, and..." <span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">Roll 1d20</span></span>
>Strike the ruined church and eliminate their forces here.
>Storm the graveyard and destroy whatever that fog hides.
>Barrel through and straight on to the tower, eyes on the objective.
>Advance, burning everything in our path. No mercy spared for the Lightless.
>Make for the nearest pit to save who we can, and put down who we can't.
>(Write in)
