All of Martel’s tactical considerations could be discarded. Blocking off one path of the circle made no difference when their enemies could attack from afar. As countless elental missiles flew through the air, he jumped behind what remained of an overturned table.
“Atreus, the other side!” Eleanor ran towards one part of the circular path, engaging the nearest enemy in combat. Atreus, still unard, went to the other side as instructed. Their enemies consisted of both elental and physical mages; the forr continued pelting the living with elental bolts while the latter ran forward to fight, using their claws or anything they could pick up as weapons.
Martel peered over his improvised fortifications. Not every skeleton stood reanimated, but they faced two scores, at least. He released a firebolt from his staff, trying to help thin the enemies that crowded Atreus, but it went wide. Without the ability to sense heat, Martel felt blind.
He glanced at Eleanor. Her spells kept her safe from any physical attacks, and with great skill, she had several enemies engaged while also keeping them hemd in that they could not slip past her. Her shield helped to intercept the magical bolts shot her way, though Martel winced as he saw fire land on her leg, making her stumble before recovering her footing.
As for Atreus, he was on the offensive. One skeleton ca running at him, and Atreus simply closed his fist and made a throwing motion. An invisible hand seed to grab his enemy and toss them into the hole. Impressive spellwork, but it had to drain his spellpower; he could not do that to all forty undead.
Releasing more firebolts, Martel cursed seeing his spells strike debris rather than bones. A volley of magical bolts ca his way in response, and several of them struck him. With another curse, he dove back underneath the broken wall. While not lethal spells, it felt like being hit by rocks; enough would do the trick.
Trying to steady his breathing, Martel was acutely aware that he had to do sothing. His companions did not have spells to strike multiple enemies – at least Martel assud that to be the case for the spellbreaker, else Atreus would have used such spellcraft already. They were holding the enemies back for Martel’s sake, the only mage among them with proper ranged spells in his quiver.
Risking another look, Martel surveyed the battlefield again while releasing a quick firebolt. Ahead of them lay the gaping hole, at least fifty by fifty feet wide. On the narrow trail on either side, enemies crowded to attack his stalwart defenders. On the remainder of the ring, on the other side, a score or more skeletons stood, releasing magic. Diving down as a bolt of air ca flying over his head, Martel considered his options.
Chain lightning dealt with multiple foes, but they stood too far apart. And without his ability to sense heat, Martel feared his spell might miss and be wasted; he did not have spellpower to keep striking with lightning. He needed to make it count to clear out this number of enemies.
Looking again, he saw his companions being pushed back between the physical assaults in lee and ranged elental spells from across the ring. An idea coming to mind, Martel hoped his magic would be up to the task.
Across the gap, Martel summoned his wall of flas. Sweating from focus, he maintained the connection across the distance and began moving his wall across the path of the ring. If the skeletons had tongues left, perhaps indignant outcries would have been heard. They fled from the onslaught of the wall while also releasing their own spells against Martel, who could not hide; he needed the line of sight to maintain his wall, in turn forcing him to be visible.
One bolt hit, and another. Martel grunted under the onslaught, and he felt his vision darken from pain. He could not survive this much longer. In addition, the agony broke his focus, and his wall disappeared. Knowing he had to react fast before his efforts were lost, Martel raised his hand towards the cluster of skeletons that had crowded together, fleeing his wall. With a roar, an inferno blasted from his outstretched hand to cross the gap and incinerate every undead caught in the wave.
Falling to the ground, sweating and panting, Martel climbed back into hiding and spent a mont composing himself. Knowing the fight was yet to be won, he raised his head again. His spell had done its work, destroying half the enemies, at least. Eleanor stood strong; with the elental threat gone, her defensive spellcraft could protect her all day.
Not the sa for Atreus. Although the greatest wizard of the three, he lacked the protections of a mageknight. Each of his spells destroyed an enemy, and he seed indomitable against magical attacks. Elental bolts made no impact striking him. He was a true spellbreaker, impervious to most magic and a scourge of maleficars, but he had no particular defence against simple blows. A skeleton, wielding the femur of its brethren as a club, smashed it against Atreus and struck his shoulder, and he fell to the ground.
Desperately hoping the spellbreaker kept down, Martel released a ray of flas against the bone-bashing undead, now that Atreus was no longer obstructing his line of attack. The fire seared the ribcage of their enemy, and the blue eyes in the skull turned towards Martel with an angry chattering of teeth. Any further communication proved futile; Atreus raised one hand, and the skeleton disintegrated in bone dust.
No longer afraid of being struck from afar, Martel advanced from his refuge to stand next to Atreus. In a reversal of roles, Martel took the front position, using his staff to fend off the undead while the spellbreaker retreated a step and unleashed his spells. One by one, the remaining skeletons broke apart. Once they had run out of enemies, both mages turned to their companion, still holding nurous enemies back by herself. With a tired expression, Atreus extended a hand and did the sa to them. As the last undead returned to its interrupted sleep, the spellbreaker sighed and slumped to the ground. ꞦАŊÓꞖÊŜ
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