>>5593415But you have not escaped from peril's jaws, not yet. The heavy tromping of boots throughout the fortress converges at the opposite end of the bridge. This is no mere patrol; the Thousand Scars have arrived in force, fully prepared to bare their teeth. No doubt, it was the earlier commotion that gave away your location to those investigating the rest of the fortress. A dozen of the hideous dastards spill out onto the bridge with more on the way, brandishing their weapons as they rally in their disgusting language. Noticing that they are set to charge, both you and Luaue raise your blades in anticipation, as Alantha assumes a defensive posture.
"Step aside, ladies. I can take it from here," purrs a confident, velvety voice from behind. Clad in simple, though tasteful robes, a fetching half-breed male with boyish features and a delicate frame slips past you - he must have approached unnoticed in the tumult. Delicately, he makes a series of complex hand gestures whilst speaking an incantation. "Arrn'ess, Sharde, Arkhdrauth!" He exclaims, thrusting his right index finger forward.
A torrent of whirling winds is shot forth from his extended digit, assuming the form of a violent cyclone directed at the bridge's center. Magic collides with stone, resulting in a thunderous explosion that demolishes a sizeable portion of the structure and sends half of the approaching warriors soaring into the magma, leaving the remainder stranded on the side opposite yours.
"No need to thank me, it was even easier than it looked," he hums, though his irregular breathing suggests that the spectacle was more physically demanding of him than he would prefer to let on. The newly-made gap in the infrastructure of the fortress should provide ample time for you and the Eilistraeans to abscond, provided you can find an escape route. However, across the way, you spy a concealed figure issuing orders to what you presume to be their subordinates, indistinct at this distance. From where you stand, their only defining detail is a polearm with the head of an axe on each end held firmly in their left hand.
The warlord Wurgoth Twice-Scarred is here.
