“What?” asked Dakkon, his fleeting temper from the road mostly dulled.
“We’re going to have to rush in a little recklessly now,” she said. “That order may be some random, backwoods congregation but they’ll still send inquisitors to suppress his magic. Whether they capture him or kill him, I’ll be royally screwed by the outcome.”
Dakkon wasn’t certain what inquisitors were, but from Lina’s words he assumed they had the ability to negate the effects of spell casters. He made a mental note of it. That was an interesting ability he’d need to look into.
“Going in guns blazing hasn’t really been my playstyle, if I’m being honest,” said Dakkon.
“We won’t have the luxury to calmly assess the situation. We need to take him out now,” Lina said.
“I get it,” Dakkon said with a nod. He had managed to calm down on the last leg of their walk to the little town of Gotswain. Though he didn’t much care for Lina’s attitude, it was likely due to her circumstances. Having her power taken from her must be incredibly hard to bear. “You know, I’ve been thinking—I may have an idea for a leg up in the upcoming fight.”
\\\\\\
The fort was crumbling down. No doubt, in a gaming world like this, monsters would have taken up residence in this sort of abandoned fortification. That certainly helped explain the smell of singed fur.
Dakkon entered and moved through the old stronghold, following his nose when other clues failed, as quickly as he could manage in stealth. It didn’t take long for him to find the wicked mage—there was a trail of scorch marks leading most of the way.
The target Dakkon’s party sought was in a large room filled with rubble and debris, likely once used as a mess hall—he guessed—due to the remnant tables and chairs. The ill-gotten gained fire mage sat upon a seat of stone featuring a backrest just tall enough to be uncomfortable if one were to attempt to lean on it—this was an important feature if Dakkon wanted to have a chance to backstab the mage. The lone player was also staring ahead blankly, his focus clearly elsewhere, perhaps on forums or videos—this too favored a surprise attack.
Dakkon quickly doubled back to Lina and Merri, who were trailing behind at a safe distance. Neither were particularly adept at stealth.
“He’s just up ahead,” Dakkon said in a timbrous whisper. “I should be able to get the jump on him. He’s facing the door, but he’s distracted.”
“I’ve been mulling it over,” said Lina. “I think your plan might work.”
Merri nodded encouragingly.
“That fool in there hasn’t had enough time to learn any advanced techniques. What’s more, he wasn’t even a mage before his class change, so he should be spec’d all wrong for casting. I say, give it a shot,” said Lina in a supportive tone that nearly felt out of character to Dakkon.
When Dakkon turned back around, Merri clapped him on the back. A chill ran down his spine. Was it from the thrill of what he was about to try, or from the unnaturally chilly hand on his back?
Dakkon crept into the inner chamber where the fire mage sat, inattentive. He slowly circumnavigated the rubble along the walls to remain unseen and unheard. Heading straight toward the fire mage would have proven much simpler than the path he chose, but it carried the risk that the mage might catch a glimpse of his approach.
Minutes of slow movement and contemplated footsteps later, Dakkon was behind the wizard’s exposed back. Dakkon raised his dagger and simultaneously coated his body in frost—to hedge against any sort of retaliatory strike. Dakkon struck downwards, but just as the tip of his dagger threatened to break skin, Dakkon’s vision flashed orange as a barrier of flame protected the fire mage. The barrier erupted outwards in all directions, causing debris to fly toward every wall. Dakkon was likewise thrown back. The damage of the fire had been dampened to nearly nothing, but Dakkon’s barrier had no effect on the concussive force of the unexpected blast, nor his collision with the wall.
[Farrol has blasted you for 70 damage. Remaining HP 605/675]
[Farrol has burned you for 3 damage. Remaining HP 602/675]
[You have collided with a wall for 43 damage. Remaining HP 559/675]
Dakkon’s left arm had connected with the wall awkwardly. The resulting pain was demanding, but manageable.
The fire mage stood from his seat, outfitted in the leathers of his previous calling rather than the subtler cloth garments favored by most other arcane practitioners, and laughed at the intruder.
“You picked the wrong guy to rob, today!” his manic voice howled with jovial fervor. He clearly didn’t feel threatened by the situation. On the contrary, he seemed delighted. “Now that you’re here, you’ll have to entertain me!”
The mage held out two fingers pointing forward from his right hand.
“Bang,” he said as a firebolt shot forward at Dakkon and pegged him squarely in the chest.
[Farrol has burned you for 8 damage. Remaining HP 551/675]
Dakkon’s shielding, cold aura had absorbed most of the fire damage.
“Oh?” said the fire mage in surprise. He made three quick firing motions with his hand and three bolts flew at Dakkon. The first caught his shoulder, but Dakkon managed to move away before the others could hit their mark.
[Farrol has burned you for 22 damage. Remaining HP 529/675]
Dakkon needed to find some cover. His cold barrier was excellent at mitigating the damage of one stray bolt, but if multiple consecutive bolts struck him, his flimsy wall of cold would be blown away and he’d surely be roasted.
“No good?” taunted the power-drunk flame mage. “How about…” the mage trailed off as he raised his other hand and pointed two fingers forward. “Bang, bang,” he said slowly with a wicked smile.
The fire mage made quick firing motions with one hand and then the next, again and again, filling the space between him and his target with a stream of fireballs. Dakkon sprayed forward a fountain of water from his Dousebinders, missing the fireballs and landing harmlessly away from the mage who cackled at the spectacle.
Dakkon abandoned the first direction he ran by spinning backwards through the torrent of fire blasts and dashing to a more stable pile of rubble to hide behind.
[Farrol has burned you for 24 damage. Remaining HP 505/675]
[Farrol has burned you for 36 damage. Remaining HP 469/675]
Two fireballs collided with him during his maneuver, but the spinning motion allowed a different portion on his cold barrier to absorb each blast. As Dakkon reached the rubble he dove and rolled, shooting another jet of water which pooled near the fire mage’s feet. He wasn’t close to being on target, his aim was simply too poor. The tail end of Dakkon’s water jet collided with a fireball and both evaporated in an instant producing an impressive cloud of steam.
The steam fog would only provide momentary cover for Dakkon. He opened up his character sheet and frantically allocated 20 stat points into dexterity. He didn’t know how much longer he could manage. As soon as the steam had cleared enough to see, Dakkon shot another stream of water towards the mage who, from either caution or hubris, hadn’t moved a step.
“Got ya!” the mage yelled. His hands glowed white-hot. He was dowsed by the spray of water, but his hands did not dim nor darken. As the water soaked the mage and pooled at his feet, he channeled a large cone of flame out from his palms which engulfed the area where Dakkon sought refuge. The edgemaster’s cover did little for him in the face of such heavy firepower.
[Farrol has burned you for 23 damage. Remaining HP 446/675]
[Farrol has burned you for 42 damage. Remaining HP 404/675]
[Farrol has burned you for 68 damage. Remaining HP 336/675]