The Magic Eaters

The battle as it was left last session

Unknown Ruins, Far North, 7th July 1655

Lynien whirled past the creature she'd just killed and slipped in behind the next nearest one, who was watching Gorfang tanking towards them. She struck from behind with both blades, staggering it and showering green blood in all directions, though not killing it.

A ripple seemed to go through all the lizard creatures, a change of attitude, and several of the larger plate-armoured ones shifted direction. Where there was a smaller blue one, two of the soldier types stepped in close to them. Then, all over the battlefield, shimmering domes of translucent blue energy erupted into being around each of the green soldiers, enclosing them at a radius of around five feet. Where they'd moved to their blue cousins, the hemispheres enclosed them as well. The other warriors pressed on to engage the adventurers.

Méabh and Eloy both drew swords as opponents closed on them and engaged, bringing them within the radius of the blue fields they were generating. To the adventurers' horror, everything magical they possessed instantly became mundane, every running spell was instantly dispelled, all their weapons and armour became plain metal. Only the powers granted to them by the Regalia of the Khabran Gods remained; the memories of the long-dead still sleeted through Méabh's brain, adding to and enriching her awareness and decsions, and the deceitful underhanded tricks of Sabath remained at Eloy's disposal. Blades clashed, but without magical enhancement, neither was able to inflict much damage. Their foes appeared unhindered. Eloy used the deceit of Sabath to deflect two mighty blows from one of his opponents to strike the other, while Méabh took several wounds as she desperately dodged and parried.

Alone on the far side of the mighty sphere, Lynien suddenly realized that she was alone facing two undamaged opponents and a wounded one, all nine feet high, armoured in plate and hefting greatswords, with all her magical augmentation gone. Action followed instantly on realization. She spun and fled with all the speed the Sandals of Nebekehshut could provide. She was almost fast enough. Two strikes lashed home, staggering her and spattering her blood across the snow, but then she was away, tearing across the valley to a safe point out of the battle beyond Gorfang, where she called on Maedar's Ring to renew her invisibility and then slugged down a healing potion.

The smaller blue lizards, meanwhile, were engaged in a new activity. Each had drawn a small black dagger, and had begun to cut a slow arc through the air in front of them, to describe an archway. Incredibly, where the knives had cut they seemed to have made holes in the very fabric of reality itself; cutting a way through into somewhere else.

The Opener of the Way

Seeing this, Gorfang altered direction in his rush across the battle and hurled himself into the group of three nearest to him. As he arrived he felt his magical weapons become a little heavier, move a little slower, though the feeling of having a trusted comrade at his side and the battle knowledge of a war god did not fade; the Wristband of Hektis was unaffected. The soldiers tried to bring their huge swords around to defend the blue lizard as he strove to rend reality, but they were too slow, and Gorfang cut it down. As it fell, the black knife fell from its' nerveless fingers into the snow. The gateway it had partially opened sealed itself, the rent closing back along the cut line over a couple of seconds.

The two warriors appeared enraged by the death of their charge, and attacked Gorfang furiously, joined by the wounded one Lynien had attacked just before disengaging. But with or without magic, Gorfang was still the Master of Weapons, and after a short and brutal fight all three were despatched. As each fell, the blue sphere of magical suppression it was generating faded, and with the death of the last, Gorfang's enchanted weapons returned to normal. Looking around, he saw Méabh fighting with her sword, nearly invisible behind two massive warriors, and called out to offer his help. Méabh was in serious danger, but the idea of asking a fighting man for help was more than her independent pride could bear. Never helpless again. She said nothing, and Gorfang turned his attention to other foes. He could see that the warriors to the north of the sphere appeared to be running away from the battle, around towards the far side. Putting his head down, he sprinted after them.

Lynien looses an arrow

Looking across the battlefield, Lynien could see that the two blue lizards had finished cutting their archway, to produce a ten-foot gateway into somewhere radically different and were preparing to step into it. Drawing her short bow, the rogue sent three arrows singing across the snow to smack into one of the dagger-wielders. These had been dipped in the Trakar frog poison the lizardmen of the Fionath tribe had given her, and she grinned tightly as she saw the effects begin to make themselves felt. A second later, the two blue and four green lizards had hurried through the doorway in the air and vanished, and the doorway had begun to close up.

Eloy plied his sword, falling back on the training of his youth, chipping away at his opponent. He delivered some good strikes and drew blood, but it wasn't going to be enough. It occurred to him that there were fewer lizards in sight than he'd expected; there were lots of them to start with and he'd expected to be swarmed, but he had only two foes. The others all seemed to be going somewhere. Why? They seemed to be winning as far as he could see. Of course, he had his back to the carnage Gorfang was wreaking.

Méabh was in trouble. A glancing blow from a greatsword had slashed across her head and the blood was pouring down her face; she could barely see and her parries were on instinct alone. She got a couple of return strikes in but then a terrible pain erupted in the side of her head as a greatsword blade smashed into her skull. Rilliantorin sparkled as it dropped into the snow, followed by Méabh's mortally wounded form.

DM Note: For someone in plate armour, 20 points off Strength is going to reduce the ol' movement rate a tad.

Lynien siezed her chance. With Méabh down, she had a clear shot at the aasimar's late foes. Two poisoned arrows sank into one of them, and the poisonous extract of swamp frogs spread into its bloodstream, draining its' strength. With a clash of metal, it collapsed, no longer strong enough to hold up the weight of its' own armour, and its antimagic field collapsed. The other, seeing the gateway behind it beginning to close, turned and fled towards it.

Eloy redoubled his efforts, and slew one of his two foes, and then called on his power of Nullity, vanishing from time, space and the perceptions of everyone on the battlefield. Unhindered, he slipped away from his remaining foe and raced across to Méabh. Turning her limp form over, he discovered that life wasn't totally extinct. Tearing a healing potion out of his belt pouch, he tipped it into the remains of the sorceress's mouth and stroked her throat to trigger the swallow reflex. Half her head was gone, but enough reflex nerves remained to respond and the potion went down. With the suppressing field gone, the magic took effect and her ghastly fatal wounds receded to a couple of bad gashes.

Gorfang, running around the sphere of the g'narf'dula, found a line of green warriors fleeing towards - and through - a cut gateway. Running along the line, overtaking them, he reached the portal and spun, planting himself in the way as the first one came running up, to be met by a stunning khopesh strike instead of an escape to safety. The orc stood his ground, and began to winnow the lizards as they ran up to him.

Méabh opened her eyes, and for a brief instant gloried in the relief of feeling the magic flow through her once more. She had no idea why she was not dead; not only unaware of Eloy kneeling next to her, but unware of his existence at all. She grabbed her sword from the snow, vaulted to her feet, and set off after her fleeing ex-foe.

Eloy watched her go, then stood up and walked casually to the poisoned one trapped in his armour and finished him off. He glanced around, found one of the black daggers, slipped it into his pack, and made off to a safe place. He'd nearly died at the hands of his own companions the last time he'd been null, and had no desire for another misunderstanding before it wore off.

Gorfang killed the last of the warriors fleeing for the gateway behind him, and turned to look at it. This close, he could see hot, dark jungle on the other side, with the blue lizard holding his black knife in the cut edge of the portal - probably keeping it open. Two green ones sheathed in antimagic loomed behind it. All three looked startled at seeing the orc instead of one of their own, but Gorfang gave them no time to react. He struck savagely, and the blue lizard's head tumbled across the clearing of the jungle. As it dropped the dagger, the portal began to seal, and Gorfang snatched his weapon back just in time.

On the far side, Méabh was back in control of her fight, giving her enemy no time to re-create his anti-magic field. Slashing with Rilliantorin she beat him back until an opening appeared and finally killed him.

Their breath restored and some healing done, the companions took stock of the field they'd one. Snow was rapidly carpeting everything, so they hastened to search the bodies. More of the black daggers were discovered, and Gorfang experimented, trying to replicate what the lizards had done to cut a hole in the air. Nothing happened, and he lost interest, dropping it into the snow.

Eloy held Bereloth out over the bodies and blinked, wondering if the antimagic had damaged it in some way - for it sensed no magic at all. Worried, he placed his Ring of Swimming on the ground and scanned that, sighing in relief when the sword responded normally. Unbelievably, not one item in all the equipment of the mystery lizards - not even the plane-cutting daggers - was enchanted or radiated a scrap of magic.

Eloy investigated the corpses of the white dragons, securing a few teeth, and noticed that the mithril objects they'd worn on their heads were gone. Some searching located these on two of the blue lizards' bodies, but again they seemed inert metal, no more. Still, the first haul of the mithril. They turned to consider the metal they'd fought for.

Of the fifty-odd plates the sphere should have comprised, roughly half were missing. Of the remaining twenty-eight, half had been detached and remained piled on the ground next to the sphere. Each plate held around a pound and a half of the precious metal; so including the one back in Gadûhvrás and the two g'dula, they had around forty-four pounds of the stuff - enough for four mail shirts - assuming they could remove it all from the plates and get it away.

Session date: 18/2/2010