Blown away

Session 21 April 2024

As the chaos of battle continues to unfold, Farryn’s actions leave a lasting impression. With a calculated strike, he obliterates a boat filled with bugbears and thugs attempting to flee, ensuring that there are no witnesses left behind. Some manage to escape by swimming or leaping from the boat, desperately seeking safety.

Meanwhile, I remain focused on my task, targeting the thugs manning the balistas with deadly accuracy. With my hunter’s mark guiding my aim, I take careful shots, swiftly dispatching my foes one by one. The sharp crack of my bow echoes through the air as each arrow finds its mark, ensuring that the enemy’s firepower is diminished.

However, my attention is abruptly diverted as I glance down and witness Morph collapsing within the force cage below. A pang of guilt washes over me as I realize that I had not noticed his plight sooner. Shaking off the distraction, I refocus my attention on Morph, determined to assist him in any way possible and push thoughts of Farryn to the back of my mind for the moment.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Farryn grappling with a barrel, and then it happens: an explosion rips through the air. My heart lurches in my chest as I watch Farryn propelled over the wall and into the water below. Panic surges through me, and I know I have to act fast. Morph fades into the background of my thoughts as I focus solely on reaching Farryn’s side.

Farryn’s voice crackles over the mind link, thick with pain as he relays his situation. Despite his agony, his determination is unwavering as he updates us on the thugs’ movements and his efforts to secure the water level. I strain my eyes, searching desperately for any sign of him amidst the chaos.

Relief washes over me as I spot Farryn struggling to pull himself onto the wall, his hand grasping for purchase. But my relief is short-lived as his grip slips, and I watch in horror as he begins to fall. Fear grips me tightly as I hear Farryn’s curses echoing through the mind link, driving me to action to ensure his safety.

On the mind link, the dark mage’s voice breaks through the chaos, his words heavy with implication. “I think their leader is dead, and Morph is in the force cage, and my magic there is still active… Shall I lift my spell?”

Without hesitation, I chime in with a firm “yes,” echoed by Patience. The tension in the air seems to ease slightly as we await the outcome of the dark mage’s decision.

Morph rises from his position and moves with purpose, his movements deliberate as he kneels beside Mortag, his mind focused on unraveling the mysteries before him. Despite the chaos surrounding us, his determination remains steadfast, a beacon of resolve amidst the turmoil.

I push myself forward, my heart pounding with urgency as I sprint toward the spot where Farryn is likely struggling. Along the way, my eyes catch sight of a group of bugbears attempting to flee, their panicked movements fueling my determination. With swift precision, I loose an arrow, the twang of my bow echoing through the chaos as it finds its mark, striking one of the bugbears squarely in the back. Another arrow follows, finding its target with deadly accuracy just as the bugbear turns to flee.

Amidst the chaos, I hear Farryn’s grunt of pain, spurring me on even faster. But then, a glimmer of relief washes over me as I finally catch sight of Farryn scaling the wall. Despite his injuries, he demonstrates his resilience, his determination shining through as he engages the foes surrounding him, dispatching them with precise strikes of his arcane energy.

As I continue my approach, a sudden explosion rips through the air, this time emanating from the water to the south. The source of the blast remains a mystery, but amidst the turmoil, one thing remains clear: our fight is far from over.

Amidst the chaos, the balistas spring to life once more, their operators taking aim with deadly intent. My heart races as I call out over our shared mental bond, my voice laced with urgency, “I’m coming to help you, Farryn!” Without hesitation, I surge forward, my focus singularly fixed on reaching my companion’s side.

As I draw nearer, I witness Farryn unleashing another volley of his purple arcane beams upon the bugbears, his determination unwavering despite the onslaught. Yet, in response to his assault, the bugbears retaliate with javelins, their crude weapons finding their mark amidst the chaos.

Through the mental link, the dark mage relays vital information about the remaining thugs in his vicinity, but my attention remains steadfastly fixed on Farryn. He is my priority.

To the east, a sudden explosion erupts in a blaze of fire, casting a fiery glow across the battleground. The dark mage’s fireball has found its mark, igniting the balistas in a blaze of fury. In retaliation, the balistas unleash a barrage of arrows, but the dark mage’s protective wards shield him from harm.

With the immediate threat quelled, the thugs swiftly set to work extinguishing the flames that engulfed the balistas, their efforts aimed at preventing further destruction. As the fire recedes, I finally reach Farryn’s side, my heart pounding with relief at seeing him battered but still standing amidst the chaos.

Summoning forth my healing magic, I cast cure wounds upon Farryn, channeling energy into his wounds to soothe his pain and mend his injuries. A wave of healing energy washes over him, and I watch as his wounds begin to close, leaving him revitalized and ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. With a reassuring pat on the back, I offer him a supportive smile, silently conveying my solidarity in our shared struggle.

Turning to Farryn, I pose the question that weighs heavily on my mind, “What’s next?” His response is swift and resolute, his determination undimmed by the trials we’ve faced. “Let’s go and loot here and later to the elites.” he declares, his words a testament to his unwavering resolve to press forward in our quest for justice and vengeance.

With Farryn swiftly descending to scavenge for spoils amidst the fallen enemies, I prepare to follow suit, eager to recover any valuable treasures that may lie within the barracks. However, before I can take a single step, the commanding voice of the Dark Mage reverberates through the air, commanding the attention of both friend and foe alike.

“Throw your weapons down, your leaders are dead,” the Dark Mage’s amplified voice booms, echoing with authority and finality. “Take three steps back – this is your final warning. Otherwise, you’ll all die.”

As the tension mounts, I watch with bated breath, anticipating the reaction of the remaining thugs to the Dark Mage’s ultimatum. Moments later, the Dark Mage relays the outcome to us: all thugs in his vicinity comply, casting their weapons into the water as a gesture of submission.

With the immediate threat neutralized and the enemy forces disarmed, a sense of cautious relief washes over me. Yet, I remain vigilant, knowing that the situation could still take a turn for the worse at any moment.

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