RP:Cinder and Smoke

Part of the Agitation Arc

Summary: Deriin in his quest to create the perfect monstrous abomination sought his latest victims on the mountain of Xalious where a group of miners fell prey to his twisted machinations. To their aid however came the Naga Xzavior and the mage Odhranos whom though proved valiant in their efforts seemingly failed after the intervention of Lanlan from the mage's guild.

Xalious Mines

Deriin was traversing the steepness of the mountain on foot while tailing a group of miners that were coming up from Xalious for the evening shift. Fifteen men in total, a mixture of humans and elves and a couple dwarves they were all filth to the drow whom was completely covered in his heavy robes. From the extra length that dragged upon the ground, to the sleeves that hung over well beyond his hands and the hood that cast his face in unnaturally thick shadow he was a figure certainly out of place, even more so with his companions. Two wargs standing taller than him (and he stands six foot roughly) on all fours guided their master at the shoulders, using their acute senses to divulge as much information about not only the surroundings, but potential danger, and the targeted prey. First the elves would die just for being elves, then the humans for being weak, and the dwarves simply for existing. Eyes cast upon the ground he allowed himself to be guided by the wargs whom he raised from birth and trained alongside as they grew up. Fenrir to his left had bright green eyes while Anfauglir to his right had deep blue but both carried an unnerving intellect beyond that of any normal beast. Each had a thick collar attached to long, heavy chains that ended up vanishing into Deriin's sleeves, assuming that each hand held one of them and those that may be sensitive to it could sense the beastmaster's special magic running through the chains into the beasts, while the only discernible markings on the drow himself were the marks of Vakmatharas on his robe. A single order was barked and his wargs went into action, their claws tearing away loose rock when they were loosed upon the unsuspecting miners. For them it was just another shift, but for Deriin it was their last days alive, and their first as eternal servants. Fenrir and Anfauglir made haste to overtake the group and dispatch the caboose of the group before working in perfect synchronicity to separate the group and instill as much fear as possible. Those that retaliated would find the thick hide of the warg brothers difficult to pierce, and they held more strength than a bear within their powerful limbs and were capable of knocking men back several meters. At the same time Deriin had withdrawn his tome emblazoned with Vakmatharas' symbol and had begun chanting, wreathing his other hand in emerald magic and filling the air with the pungent odor of necromancy (he had let go of the chains).

Odhranos had planned on heading into the village to visit the library, but on his way down the steep slopes of the valley that Xalious Village lay in, he was greeted by a hideous sight. On the ridge below him, the mage spied a group of miners, of mixed race, being cornered by a pair of slavering beasts, their teeth-crowded maws dripping vile froth and slavering as they approached the group. Spurred into action, the mage dropped his bag and ran to the edge of the ridge. Bringing both hands upwards, fists clenched, he ripped a chunk of stone from the mountainside, roughly the five hands spans wide and flung it down the slope towards the beasts.

Xzavior had been slithering around the town expecting to see the hooded drow somewhere within. When he hadn't he was starting to feel a bit disappointed by the fact. He wanted some fun! Don't say he ditched him! He hed with him a halberd like he had the nighr before. Reach would be the key to this fight. That he could guess already. Getting a bit worried he had started expanding his search and to his happiness he smelt the blood before hearing the cries of fear. Springing into action himself he aped his way down the trail to find the many miners getting slaughtered. He would have just let the mage deal with it since he seemed so keen on rushing into death's maw before even taking into account of what the beasts could do. With that he looked around for the master himself. Luckily he wasn't too far from where Xzavior was. Because he saw that book abd he wasn't about to let him finish whatever he was doing. Even if it was just leafing through because he was bored. The guy was a drow so he didn't expect a silent approach to work too much, so he went straight in and with an uppercut swing of the pole ax he aimed to knock it from his hands and possibly get the spear tip to give him a nasty greeting.

Lanlan was working on decrypting his own mysterious book, and had essentially hit a deadend. There had to be a key, but there was no clue he could think of. He knew next to nothing about the previous owner. It was frustrating, and there were several instances of shouted curses and smashing glass to be heard from his dormitory. 'Was everything okay?' they wanted to know. "Mind your own business," he told them, and he went out into daylight with a wide brimmed hat and reflective sunglasses. They would protect him from the sun, his gloves would protect him from the denizens. Most of them, but one stood out. A naga? With a mission too, it would be unwise to follow him, but could prove a worthy distraction if the naga decided to eat people or whatever it is they do. He followed him up the path to the North. "If you understand me, Naga, what or who are you looking for?"

Deriin didn't expect things to go off without a hitch, in fact the more interference there was, the more pain that was deserved to be inflicted, and the more bodies he would throw into the ritual. Spotting the mage his amber eyes narrowed with distaste even as he saw the rock. Barking an order Fenrir and Anfauglir took a moment to leap to the side, even 'accidentally' putting a miner in the way of the stone which crushed his chest before continuing on. It forced Deriin to even dodge, leaping off to the side only to feel a sharp pain in his shoulder upon which he landed. He knew the bone would bruise, and so he silently cursed his brittle disease that brittled his body. Anger started to rise up in him but the drow remained completely calm, totally in control yet and unafraid that things were going to turn sour for him, even when he felt the edge of a blade press upon his flesh. In a flash he had slid from his robe, wrapping it around the end of the halberd over and over before kicking off and away from Xzavior, fully revealed now to the light of day. A pale drow well built and scarred from battle stood in combat fatigues and a leather harness which held all manner of pouches of which had contents including but not limited to an assortment of poisons, components and weapons. Slipping from his waist a jar which held a beating heart writhing with green flame and oozing rotted material he almost smiled while removing it from the cap and dropping it to the ground. From a pouch he retrieved a handful of soil and dried leaves which were sprinkled on the heart while speaking a short incantation. In moments the thing went erratic befor from a pyre of green flame stood the child from the night before, the one that was murdered to create the horrid monstrosity that was the rot necromental. With a face frozen in horror it proceeded to move sluggishly towards Xzavior while Deriin continued on his way towards the dying men and his wargs that proceeded to butcher the rest. The chanting resumed, his hands sparking with necromancy and in moments he released lightning which arced continuously from him and to the corpses. What he was doing was anyone's guess.

Odhranos cursed as his rock landed, harming one of the already dying miners. Clenching his fists, he began building up terramantic energy in the rock beneath him. As his eyes shon their arcane silver glow, his vision shimmered and darkened, overlaying with shadows and shimmering lights from down below. As he watched, the drow crossed to the corpses and began muttering. To Odhranos' eyes, the quickly fading light in the corpses began writhing, curdling, turning foul and corrupted. The mage cursed loudly, necromancy, the most despicable of magics. He grunted and twin ridges of cracked rock sped down the slope towards the drow, appearing like two colossal rock worms were burrowing through the rockface. As the reached the lower ridge, large flanges and spikes of stone began erupting from the earth, like some demented elemental was pushing a armoury-full of blades up from the earth. Lanlan might recognise this technique, alerting him to Odhranos' presence, but Odh was otherwise distracted as he sent both trails arcing towards the drow and his abominations.

Xzavior didn't even glance back to respond but replied in elvish in a sarcastic manner, "I'm far from illiterate and you would do well not to end up on my bad side." As the drow pulled out the heart and the child of dearh formed again he gave a slight sigh of disappointment before casting a hand in his direction, "And I am looking for him." Before sweeping his hand in the direction of the shambling abomination and a spear of ice shot from his ice covered wrist to pierce it's chest and heart and rapidly work to freeze it from the inside out. However he wasn't done with Deriin. With his other hand he thrusted his palm out in his direction and a bolt of ice shot at him. More specifically the book. He saw nothing good from it and he wanted it gone before whatever he was doing was finished. "Now stay out of the way or die." He didn't eaven mean it as a threat. It was a fact that if the man stayed things would not end well. Xzavior wouldn't be the cause of it either.

Lanlan was stunned, such a neutral question was met with such rudeness! Hostility! He wanted to ask him how he dared and how severe should the consequences be for insulting a drow patron. But they were on the surface, and such things had to be handled delicately. "Tedious..." said Lanlan. "The one killing miners and such? Yes what is a drow doing up here murdering miners and slaves?" Lanlan wasn't quite out of Xzavior's way, standing at his side and beholding the changing scenery. "Looks like this is mage's guild jurisdiction now, Naga," noticing the terramancer's churning earth.

Deriin found all this defiance to be quite a nuisance. The Rot Necromental, conjured using the most horrid and dark magics accessible to only the truly wicked and in fact, a lost art, stood without fear before the naga but isntead of allowing itself to be impaled so easily this time its body shifted as though to be in proximity of the spear was tantamount to death. At the same time it would not allow its father, its master to become harmed and so when the hand outstretched it was met with the monstrosity's own and the rotted limb took the full brunt of the blast. Sure the arm to the shoulder froze solid but in moments that chunk fell apart into the slop of its form to be reabsorbed and a new arm was already formulating from oozing tendrils. It lashed out with these tendrils, capable of melting through solid material, and flesh, bone like it was a hot knife going through butter, reducing all to the same form as it was in. At the same time Fenrir and Anfauglir at a silent command from their master took it upon themselves to go straight for Ohdranos. With the miners mostly dead, approximately nine and the remaining six fleeing it was more than enough for the necromancer to work with. The warg brothers worked in tandem, first gripping up their own leashes within their mouth and with a wild flailing of their heads swung the heavy chains like clubs towards the mage in hopes of breaking his concentration and his body. They made sure to not strike one another, dodging with expert timing in and out of eachother's range when they continued their flurry of assaulting the terramancer in a pincer formation. Deriin himself was left to deal with the worms and so had to cease his spell only momentarily, but the magic was well imprinted upon the souls of the dead already. First he charged towards the nearest worm, leaping over spikes and blades to land upon the stone only to use it as a platform to leap once more but this time narrowly missing the radius and ending up snagging the flesh of his lower left leg. It tore clean in a large gash and the necromancer was on the ground but this was just what he needed. The hatred that flowed in his blood he mixed with his magic and prepared ot finish his spell. In drow he spoke, of pain and suffering, of fear and hate amplified, summoned from beyond the grave, and of new life spreading and feasting upon the lives and fears of others. "Rise my Nightmare!" From a pouch he mixed his blood with ashes and a couple pieces of volcanic rock which he tossed into the mix of bodies before igniting them aflame and then casting more of his emerald lightning. The spell was nearly complete it just needed a bit more energy, but the reactions could already be seen. The flames would not burn the bodies but instead took hold of the hearts and the nine bodies appeared to start reanimating.

Odhranos 's eyes widened as the wargs pounded up the slope. He clenched his fists and threw them down at the ground beneath his feet, which split open, creating a fissure into which the mage jumped, sealing it above his head. Taking a moment to throw a flurry of rock-spikes, the mage burrowed through rock in the direction of Xalious. Judging from the manner in which the wargs simply shrugged off or dodged his attacks, the mage would be of no use in the ensuing fight, so he took it upon himself to alert the Mage's Tower to the fight unfolding on the mountainside. He cursed, hoping Lanlan would be alright while he flew through the earth.

Xzavior glared at the elf for a moment, hissing, "Well, guess what. I'm a mancer, and he's here to kill me! So this is my fight and I am not backing out. And as you can clearly see, I'm a bit busy!" This man was really starting to get on his nerves. He was fighting. Right in front of him. Why is he talking to him like he was some sort of foreign creature only here to cause trouble while he was the one in the life or death situation. Granted he was there willingly. As the child whipped the tendrils, the ice in his chest snapped quickly so that Xzavior could raise the arm up and block the blow and as Deriin shouted Xzavior cursed loudly and the ice quickly enveloped his body like armor. Snapping back to the elf, the ice around his face carried the same expression he did, anger, "Get touched by that thing and die. Only warning you get." Back to the fight at hand the ice still lodged in his chest never stopped working to freeze him. Instead it worked double time to get the effect done and over with. Flicking his wrist a pool of ice formed in front of him and with an outward thrust a pillar came out to rocket into the child and hopefully launch him from the site. He needed time to get to Deriin and with the terramancer gone there was nothing distracting the wargs. Great.

Lanlan wasn't about to watch Odhranos get killed, not before he discovered everything Lanlan needed to know. So he'll help...! But then he doesn't need to, because Odhranos escapes. Now he had literally no stake in the outcome here. Nothing to lose, nothing to gain. Unless they both killed each other and he could loot their corpses, but he doubted either of them truly had anything worth taking. "You're so busy and you're letting me distract you? Tsk, you lack focus. Look at those pooches, how they trace Odhranos' scent. Tracking him even under the ground!" He tsked again, and continued watching as Derrin crafted his master spell, content just to see exactly what would happen. This wasn't a time to pick sides yet, if he ever would. "Oh drow? What House do you owe allegiance to?"

Deriin was glad that the Terramancer was out of the picture and so too did the worms crumble at his departure. The wargs could not handle the oncoming spears of rock, multiple shards managing to stick into the fur, causing light stab wounds while others sliced along their hide. Shaking the majority of the assault off their muscular forms they began to lumber back towards their master, gently taking him in their jaws like a mother to her cubs to drag him away from the mess that was the dangerous stone outcroppings while he cast his spell. The child which was giving Xzavior the most trouble was launched into the air to splash in a rather ugly display against the rock wall, but its beating heart only rolled to the ground still beating. It would be some time, with the magic in it weakened before it could reform but it had done its duty so long as the heart remained in tact. Deriin looked to Lanlan and was pleased to see another drow, but not happy that he did not fight the naga, whom the man saw as filth. "Deriin of House Fuer'yonii d'Aphyon. House leader." it was a minor house, and direct translation meant the Beasts of Death. The meaning behind that apparent as Deriin had multiple minions at his disposal. With Xzavior preoccupied and no more threats to get into his way he resumed his spell for the final touches. Slipping the book away he made a prayer to Vakmatharas before finishing his chant in drow and more emerald bolts arced from his fingertips. The bodies reacted, bursting flames from every orifice possible, while also having gouts release from the newly opened chest cavities however the still beating hearts remained unsinged, instead like a furnace was the source. These hearts launched into the air followed by trails of ash, created by the rapidly dissolving bodies. They spun around eachother in a large ring, each heart that clashed with another joining together to create a larger organism until all had become one and there was just a massive beating organ surrounded by smoke and burning ash. "My Cinder Necromental! Feel my hate, Feed your Fury! Destroy the filth! Expunge the surface!" Suddenly the ash began to form a skeletal structure, not totally solid but it was more symbolic, creating a cage around the massive heart and forming a torso, arms and even a makeshift head through which two blazing pits acted as eyes. It released the most inhuman of roars, the wails of agony which was the amalgamation of regrets and loss shared by the men that died here today, and in that scream all their voices as they died could be heard, yearning for release. In its 'hands' two large spheres of magical fire formed and were launched like rockets towards Xzavior, trailing large plumes of ash and upon exploding would release burning hot cinder in a choking cloud on top of the initial scorching flames that threatened to engulf the naga.

Xzavior was so tempted to whip around and show him how much of a distraction he was being. He probably could. He's fought greater odds then this. Well, maybe not. As the ash monster formed he growled and shouted in turn, "Skip the theatrics!" Before moving almost instantly. To avoid the flames. If Lanlan wasn't going to help then why should he bother helping him. It wasn't his neck on the line anyways. But he did notice the interaction between the two and gave a soft hum in thought as he moved quickly to dispatch Deriin. Cut the head off the serpent and all. He hadn't forgot for a second that the Wargs were there. He had been running his hands along the ground as he slid to meet him and when he had a direct line of sight he brought them up and similar to what the terramancer did blades of ice raced ahead. Though more fluid then the rocks, they would follow him for as long as Xzavior could see him and the man was on the ground. He was already ready for the wargs with axes wrapped in his hands.

Lanlan realizes he's faced with a real talent here, in the drow Derrin; but tells him, enunciating over the gurgling of this latest incarnation of Derrin's malice. "I'm unfamiliar with your house, but I appreciate the quality of your work." Truly, it was evident in the way Lanlan pored over its evolution, over its every gyration. Lanlan gave one last look around, assured that there wasn't any living witnesses. When he was assured that there wasn't, he turned to Xzavior, and a certain light left his eyes and he said, "Sorry, Naga." He lept into the sky and began casting a spell of his own, employing his fingers in some splendid type of origami to activate his magic. The first thing he did was instruct the illusion of a patrolling dwarf to step within view of their crime. "Look! A witness! Will you save him, Naga?" Then Lanlan summons a malevolent spectre wearing ethereal blue but with burning fiery eyes. It floats with incredible speed toward the patrolman and passes through him, dragging along the soul of the dwarf on his way out. The dwarf crumbles and instantly begins writhing in pain, coming to terms with its disconnection. Now that Xzavior's seen the results of his illusion, he knows what to expect when such happens to him "Too late," says the half drow, and he beckons several more wraiths like this to surround Xzavior. Wearily, they advance to pick at his soul, and surround him, obscuring Xzavior's vision of his true enemies...

Deriin amidst all the commotion was slightly more concerned about getting the heart of his rot necromental back, the still beating organ wreathed in green flame off to the side of their battle. In response to the ice blades coursing along the ground towards him he barked an order and the cinder necromental smashed into the ground at the impending threat. Being a being with a lack of substance it could not block the ice but instead what it did was eject plumes of hot scorching ash to either side effectively creating a smokescreen that did obscure Deriin from Xzavior's view making his spell that required eye contact ineffective. Still a blade did manage to grace through the beast master's side and draw blood, of which the two wargs did not appreciate in the slightest. Grabbing up their master they guarded him against the heat, bursting through the wall on the furthest side from Xzavior only coming out singed and bringing the necromancer close to the beating heart for retrieval. As it was picked up and placed back in a jar which took its place hanging at his side the two wargs took up stance as the bodyguards they were, stoic but ready for a fight at any moment. Lanlan's show was not unnoticed either, in fact his assistance was definitely appreciated, for it would serve as more than enough distraction, when the cinder elemental drew up an intense amount of heat within the furnace of its chest where its massive heart beat like a gong. Swinging its arms wide the rib cage snapped open to release a flare of scorching heat and cinders, turning the rocks closest to it red hot and this ejection spread out for a good twenty to twenty five feet in a cone, of course degrading in heat the further it got out. The sound that it made though when it was doing this, perhaps was more horrifying than the actual action as the heat expanded out came with the sounds of all the men that died creating the beast, their screams, howls of rage that no one could have protected them. When it was done the rib cage snapped shut and it resumed throwing projectiles of choking ash towards the naga to further distract and hopefully harm him. To avoid the attacks the wargs grabbed up Deriin and deftly dodged left and right until they could acquire safety from this newly born monstrosity.

Xzavior wasn't even using true sight to see. The call out of the dwarf was literally ignored. If the idiot was stupid enough to come into range of such a violent fight then it wasn't his fault he died. But he could tell it was just smoke and mirrors. There was no heat signature. He was a cryomancer for Sven's sake. He was gokng to be able to read such things. Well, that and cold and magic. So while the wraiths wrapped around him he casted an unfeeling look up to the illusionist before humming and turning to the hulking abomination and felt the attack as it approached. "Well. It has been quite a while since I had to do this..." he launched himself out of the way of the flames and didn't stop moving till he was sure he was safe. He only needed a few seconds. Come now. He's practiced thos so many times back in the day... coiling his tail beneath him he whipped up a snowstorm. It didn't come fast but once it hit it was a sea of white. That wasn't it though. The ice around his body pulsed with magic before expanding at an expensive rate. Growing nonstop until he was at least 2 times his original size. 30 feet in total. Once he was done he turned to look at the drows in turn. Each movement making a cascade of sound like shattering glass. Hia voice was no better. "Well? Shall we begin?" The snowstorm was still there but evolved into an ice storm. Shards of ice whipped around the place with deadly edges that shattered on stone and ice, not without leaving their scores of cuts. His hand reached out and a more focused version of the storm pointed at the necromancer and his pets. By no means was he going to let this be the end of him. No matter how cold he made these mines or himself.

Lanlan hated when his productions went unappreciated; actually they never did. He always appreciated them! The wraiths, hand picked straight from his memories and whittled down to the tiniest detail. But there's no accounting for the abilities of others to distinguish by means other than wisdom or analytics. Not until after they do of course! So what did he leave out? What did he need to change to make certain that the naga should be punished for the indiscretion of condescending to him, of being so harsh while Lanlan was under the guise of an amicable surface dweller? Frost formed at the tips of his 12 inch eyebrows. There was a storm twisting about this cavern. Offending Lanlan again so soon after an indiscretion. Did cryomancers sense heat? He never bothered to remember, so few and feeble are they. But they might, so then this should be tested. It was an easy thing to apply, after learning of its necessity when facing against the drow. In his mind's grimoire, there were only so few things that matched the necessity of being highly permeable, and highly dangerous to a cryomancer. He hearkened back to a random encounter on Kelay way and activated his weird magic. Using his dexterous long fingers and even his feet since they were free in the air, he draped lines and layers of magic over himself, until he was ready to activate them. He did, and immediately erupted into a great fiery phoenix, fanning the magical flames down toward Xzavior with his newly imagined wings, which THIS TIME, were complete with a heat signature. While this crafty distraction was being employed, Lanlan hovered sneakily behind a stalagtite and shielded himself from the biting snow, pulling down the brim of his hat to shield him against the weather. Xzavior would find the phoenix's flames would ignore his defenses, permeating past his frozen barriers directly to his scaly skin which then appeared to blister and cook. Nothing was complete without the senses being satisfied, so he applied a dense stench of burning meat and hair.

Deriin had managed to escape back behind the wall of ashe that his cinder necromental had created in his defense, before the naga was able to engorge his size and the power that he gave off. This was far more than a nuisance, it was downright aggravating. Why couldn't surface creatures accept their fate and just die when they were outmatched, outwitted, no instead they had to continue to fight! Though this could definitely turn out to be turned in their favor. Turning away from the battle he began calling for help! Shouting in drow, in common, even makeshift elven he began to draw the attention of those nearby. "This beast is planning to kill the miners, he wants to kill Xalious citizens!" his words may or may not be heard through the howls of wind of the storm but the cold itself never reached Deriin. The cinder necromental drew in more heat and gathered its ashy form and began to swirl as a black tornado with burning coals for eyes that hid just behind but could be seen through the outer wall. The heat combated the cold, the forge powered by the souls and misery of nine men. Shards of ice sailed through its incorporeal body, but any that drew near its heart were blasted with concentrated bursts of heat, doing little to subtract from the growing well of it within the walls of the swirling plume. At the same time Deriin began to channel more magic and this time from his finger tips arced green bolts of vitriol which would splash against the ice armor and sizzle through the layers so long as the spell connected, and once at the flesh begin to sear through the skin only to inflict the naga with a fast acting necrosis.

Xzavior had more then enough run-ins with people who liked to play mind games. And he hated all of them save two. Lanlan was no different. Perhaps in a worsencase since he was so keen on betraying him the instant they met. Another thing he hated. He was already sensing the immense heat from the cinder beast, the added Phoenix was a strange addition, though he gritted his teeth and reminded himself constatly that there wasn't a way for that to be. He was smarter then that. "Unless you fancy yourself a pyromancer while somehow having time to learn illusions I suggest you leave us to our fight." He turned from the hiding illusionist to the necromancer, "unless you don't believe you are capable of fighting someone such as me by yourself." It seemed his question was answered with the false accusations to the ice covered naga. When the blast of necro magic clashedbwith his ice, there was a battle between melting and regrowing. However, Xzavior wasn't going to just stand there. He turned and rushed down the necromental while quickly forging a spear of ice and driving it straight for the heart of the creature. His tail whipped back and forth sending smaller versions of the same spear rained to hit them. Something. Anything.

Lanlan felt his lip quiver in contempt...but he quickly dashed the notion of losing control of his emotions. Or so he thought. "So each of can continue fizzling against each other like novices?" The one thing he did do away with was his illusions. They instantly dissipated. And he through his hand down and a glass wand appeared out of his sleeve. He flipped it into his left and leveled it at Xzavior. His now free hand contorted into a claw that he aimed at Deriin. "Fighting like children, well children shouldn't wield such power." He targeted the mana they were using directly, and began dragging it away from them and toward him. The immediate effect of it was to reduce the potency of their spells. The winter storm turned into a cold rain, and Xzavior's icy armor turned immediately brittle and weak. Derrin's bolts of green were reduced to such that would cause an irritating rash and evaporate. "Children," says he, "should be disciplined." As if on cue, several battlemages arrive from the South, armed with all manner of magical arms armor. "Sergeant," bellows Lanlan toward the one in the most ornate armor, "Surely Odhranos has informed you of the battle that's taken place here. It was these two having an unsanctified duel which caught miners and slaves in the middle, and they suffered as collateral damage." Being a respected member of the Mage's guild had its perks, and he was believed. The evidence was abound of course, no evidence of any illusion magic here! They bore shields of pure energy that repelled magical force with ease. They enunciated that the two will immediately cease and desist, and that their magical implements should be confiscated.

Deriin watched from behind the wall of ash and heat the two giant creatures go at each other, Xzavior and his immense size and his cinder necromental which was preparing another immense burst of heat. As Xzavior rushed the necromental it puffed out its body before squeezing into smaller space and releasing from a newly opened mouth a concussive beam of heat. It would not only push the naga but its continued contact would burn away ice and then the naga himself if it was allowed to. That was until a spear went through its heart. Due to the fac tthat its heart was an amalgamtion of nine of them it wasn't so easy to kill, and in response to this attack it separated its hearts and dispersed them to the ground. Xzavior managed to impale four of the hearts before it sank to the ground and assembled itself as five individual cinder flame sprites roughly similar in size and shape to the necromancer himself. Then he could feel his own magic start to fizzle in response to Lanlan and he looked up to the Illusionist with spite. He would not speak a word to the filth as they approached, but should they approach him with intent to confiscate his constructs, his pets, or his book and other weapons such as his dagger of vakmatharas. These people were not worth his words.

Xzavior hated superiority complexes just the same. This was no child's duel, this wasn't even his problem or Xzavior's fault. If anything, Xzavior tried to stop him. As his armor was reduced to ice alone, losing the regrowth to it. He shattered the shell to see the soldiers coming and with an annoyed hiss pulled himself from thr ice and within a few moments the naga had changed from his normal form to an all white draconian and with a sarcastic wave, leaped into the air and took off without a word. He was going to have none of it. This was a rather disappointing turnout. Best part is, is that rhe shift wasn't in any way magical. Biology is great!

Lanlan was at home leading a group. But these people weren't use to being led by him! Xzavior tried to escape, but after such insolence, it shouldn't be allowed. "Shoot him! Shoot him you fools!" They hesitated, should they listen to such a disrespectful commander? But they had to, it was their duty. So they pooled their spells together, chanting like cultists, and they produced one giant magic missile spell. A giant conical spire of magic launched toward Xzavior and was instantly replaced by another. This one shot off and was replaced. In the darkness and the mist caused by the wild weather, it was hard to be accurate against such a small agile target. "Shoot him! Shoot him!" Cried Lanlan. The missiles slammed into the ceiling of the cave and loosened pebbles, rocks, and boulders. All fell between them and Derrin, creating an effective barricade. Xzavior got away, but so would Derrin. Lanlan stifled a smirk and bellowed at his underlings. "Look what you've done! Ten of you couldn't hit a single target?" His insults bore the breadth and variety obtained only in academia, and they trailed off as he did away from the cave. But he would surely meet with Derrin again.

Deriin made sure to stay away from the boulders, making careful note of Lanlan's features. The five necroflame cindersprites circled around their master before he banished them, taking each of their hearts and placing them in jars at his waist until it was just him, and his wargs. They avoided the falling debris and remained quiet until the wargs sensed the presence of no one else. When he was sure he was alone, they would make their own departure. Relatively successful day aside from the run in with the mage's guild.