The battle with Fathesque and Co

As everyone makes ready adjusting weapons, loosening up joints, casting spells, and preparing in everyway possible ( all the while watching and judgeing what the others are doing to get a feel for there new found companions ), they begin to gather together in the center of the room where earlier the chairs had been moved around to make there earlier talks easier. No one pays attention to the distant sounds of laughter and music coming from the wedding party only a couple of rooms away. No one pays attention to the occassional loud bursts of laughter coming from the knights of Cormyr in the other room. No one even notices the quiet stated dignity and expensive decor of this very room.

All eyes are focused on the the taps on the shoulders, the extending and linking of hands, on the intricate pass of a spellcasters hand as he mouths the words of power that shall throw them into confrontation with Fathesque who had killed Deethan's uncle and is the easiest target to vent there frustrations and angry intentions to get to the bottom of this mess. A powerful archmage who nearly shattered the lower Sword Coast in devastating war. A man who controls a shadowy organization that gains in power and wealth as every year passes.

Deethan is the last to act and activates some spell or effect and vanishes from sight even as he continues to hold the hands of those with him.

As the last cabalist gesture and pass of the hand is made no more thought can be spared for any of these irrelevancies as each and everyone feels the lurch as powerful magics rip a whole through the fabric of space and bridge a dimensional rift across the edges of the astral plane by sheer force of will and the power of the spellcaster. There is a horrible wrenching feeling as of the soul, the body, the consciousness being pulled out of shape and stretched.
Stretched impossibly thin and long. A fleeting moment of being in two places at once.

Faelar's spell is a success and leaves everyone momentarily nauseous as the mortal mind no matter how well versed in magics or steepled in depths of experiences, it simply recoils at such travels.

And then with a soft pop of outrushing air the group drop hands and stands ( or floats a couple of inches above the ground for those with flying active ) in the midst of a deep and old forest.

The smell of wet earth and leaves assault your noses as it must have had a very powerful summer rain here in the last few hours.

All around are the sentinels of ancient gnarled oaks with an occassional pine or spruce scattered amoung them. Big, tall, old trees. There upper limbs branching and knotting together blocking out alot of the sunlight leaving the lower lying bushes and newly growing trees struggling in the diminshed light. Off the hunting trail where you stand the underbrush twists and turns into a hard to cross landscape knitted in tight patches between the boles of the great trees. The undergrowth can be passed but not at a running pace.

"Interlopers. The Primarch takes unkindly to those who disturb his hunt and pleasures. Remove yourselves and petition as do all others with the city Senschal."

"And take the elves with you. Elves are banned in Sembia."

Two dozen feet or more away and down the trail in the direction in which you had earlier seen the huntsmen travelling is a man in tight brown leather pants with knee high boots with a pair of daggers stuffed in the tops of each. He wears a heavy brown leather shortcoat over the top of his dark green cotton shirt.
Held loosely in his hand is a bow strung but without an arrow on the string. He has a hip quiver full of arrows and a second quiver can be seen poking over his shoulder as can the hilt of a sword. A pair of daggers are sheathed at his belt. Some sort of badge or hearldic device in gold stitching and of some considerable worksmanship is on the left breast of his jacket.

You can easily see the torn up turf of the hounds and the horses on the trail. But none of you remember seeing this man with the hunting party.

Mostly out of sight a couple of hundred of feet away and behind a couple of twists in the trail you can make out the bobbing motions of the hunting party.
The sound of baying hounds easily points out there direction and an occassional glimpse of motion can be caught between the trees.

ROUND ONE - Deethan's perspective

Deethan drops his hand away from Derrick's shoulder and takes a single step to one side as he fights down the nausea common with teleporting and tries to ensure Derrick doesn't bump into his invisible form. As Derrick starts to move backwards into the darker shadows, Deethan utters a brief arcane phrase under his breath, and the world suddenly freezes around him.

Immediately, Deethan starts to cast again, speaking aloud the arcane words, comfortable that no-one will hear him whilst time is frozen, his hands moving in an intricate pattern to complete the spell. Were he visible, his eyes would have started to glow blue, (OOC: Greater Arcane Sight - duration 20 minutes), and for a moment he looks at the man who had spoken, taking note of the power and location of any magical auras on the man (OOC: Or anywhere else in line of sight- apart from the other PCs of course). He doesn't admire the scene long however, aware that time for the rest of the world would be resuming in a moment, and instead, starts to cast again, dimension dooring himself to a spot above the party, where he flies even higher into the tree branches,finding a spot where he can observe the action as time suddenly starts to flow again.

Deethan finds himself stepping thru a shimmering blue portal which closes behind him as he looks down on the tangled branches of the trees below. He can see the party of hunters thru gaps in the trees coverage as they ride but notes that he will have to use his spell of flight and slowly descend into the upper branches of the trees if he wishes to get much information.
But with the already active spell which would cause his eyes to be glowing a bright blue if he were not sheltered behind the masking effects of his ring. He notes that of the dozen mounted horsemen which he gets occassional glimpses of below down on the trail between the great oak trees. Over half of them are literally glowing with the presence of dozens of powerful magical items and prepared and active spell effects.

Deethan decides he has to dip down lower into the trees to see what he can make of this. With a surge back to reality he sees the riders start to move again as the time stop ends.

He sees a blazing curtain which he immediately recognizes as a wall of force of a failry immense proportion. It is apparently 10 feet high and 400 feet long shaped in a winding 'U' set down between the trees in front of and to the sides of the hunting party. With a turn of his head he makes out some fleeting patterns of magic about 60' back of someone in the air carrying a large amount of magical items and radiating like a sun with layered magical effects.

But just as the trees block him from the main hunting party so do they from whom he assumes to be Faelar who has somehow come forward very rapidly and dropped a failry powerful magical block in front of the riders.

OOC: As soon as you get a clearer line of sight I will roll off what you see.

ROUND ONE - the other's perspective

Derrick slips from sight with relative ease as he watches the battle kick off.

A vertical blue slash from a dimension door spell opens and then closes with no one apparently going through it.

The man who had approached you in the pathway seems to stutter for a moment and then repeats the exact same thing that he said before. Word for word.

"Interlopers. The Primarch takes unkindly to those who disturb his hunt and pleasures. Remove yourselves and petition as do all others with the city Senschal."

"And take the elves with you. Elves are banned in Sembia."
[ED - THIS IS AN INTERESTING FACT WE DIDN'T PICK UP ON BEFORE - TELLS US SOMETHING ABOUT THE POLITICAL SCENE!]

Garrett's mental laughter as he talks about something called Deja vu at the man's antics belies the serious nature of the encounter.

Shayla's quiet contempt for the lone man and Faelar's complete disregard and indeed deliberate ignorance of the man in the path filter through the link.

Faelar plans on casting a powerful spell that will disrupt the flow of time and allow him a few more rounds of action as things get kicked off.

Roni's quiet laughter at the man in front of Garrett is like a tinkling of little coins from the admitted happy go lucky Luckpriest of Tymora.

And from right at the edge of the midst of the hunting party with no idea how he got there to the rest of you, Faelar's thoughts filter back thru the mind link. He is a good 200 feet away from the group and already engaged with the hunting party of Fathesque.
[ED - he did a time stop like Deethan and zipped ahead to engage the enemy more quickly]

This spurs Shayla on who the newcomer elf and companion of Faelar. She does not even bother and simply flies over his head as fast as her spell can carry her as she streaks down the path and thru the trees to the side of the path as she goes after the riders.

Her frustration as she realizes that the spell of flying is not even as fast as herself on foot floods the mental link.

Everyone is momentarily surprised to hear/think the twang thump of bows as the hidden archers let fly with prepared arrows. Two arrows simply pass right through Garrett as if he were not there and the others miss Shayla in her wild flight completely.

Apparently there were others around the initial scrying point which you had not seen.

With a soft 'Yulp.' Roni jumps to the side and runs for the nearest cluster of bushes and trees for cover.

From in the midst of the hunters comes Faelar's thoughts.

A pair had been laughing and joking and are now busily throwing down the wine bottles that they had in their hands and regarding the massively glowing and shimmering wall that has cut them off from going any further forward.

Faelar silently curses that the normally invisible barrier of force that he had erected is slightly visible as there is so much dust and plant spores in the air that a faint shimmering can be seen where the large wall he had put in place boxes in the riders.

Indeed apparently a couple of them can see it directly as they point it out to the others as they must have some form of magical sight working for them. Faelar takes a careful note of these two.

It is a very long wall shaped in a large 'U' with the back end towards the party open but all other avenues of escape closed off.

"Protect the Primarch." ( OOC these are the two )

Shouts one who is dressed a little less martially than the rest. He is a bit fatter and even though he rides well he seems to be no warrior. And from what Deethan can see of the man he comes to the quick conclusion that he is a spell caster. He rides towards the one who seems to be dressed in the finest riding gear and riding what is obviously the best horse of the group.

Looking to the two men the one rushing to do the protecting and the one being ushered away into protection.

"Dagon. Seth. To me."

Shouts anouther. He is dressed quite well and as is evident by the earlier scrying all the men here are men of power wealth and quite probably high noble birth.

He drops his boar spear and pulls forth a powerful bouble bladed axe from his horse's saddle. Riding to him are two of the other younger looking nobles who both bear a strong family resemblance to the older man as if he may be there fathere or an uncle. Both still have their boar spears in hand and are couching them at stirrup as if to make them impromptu lances.

As these first two have clumped together so too quickly form a trio more groups. Three other small groups clump together as they seek out those they know and are the most familiar with. In two of the groups again familial lines seem to be suggested. With a son joining his father/uncle as a group. And a pair of younger men joining an older man as the second.

The third group consists of the man Deethan had pointed out during the scrying as Fathesque. He is joined by a man whom is obviously some type of man servant to Fathesque. His closes are not as noble or as expensive as any of the others here in the riding party. And indeed it is his horse that seems to be carrying the largest saddlebags many with the unmistakable clinking of bottles inside.

ROUND TWO - from Deethan's perspective

As Deethan descends into the tops of the trees he sees the well dressed lords in there puffed velvet and brocades riding horses with silk trailers and ribbons tied to their manes and tails just as he remembers seeing them from the scrying earlier.

A pair had been laughing and joking and are now busily throwing down the wine bottles that they had in there hands and regarding the massively glowing and shimmering wall that has cut them off from going any further forward.

"Protect the Primarch."

Shouts one who is dressed a little less martially than the rest. He is a bit fatter and even though he rides well he seems to be no warrior. And from what Deethan can see of the man he comes to the quick conclusion that he is a spell caster. He rides towards the one who seems to be dressed in the finest riding gear and riding what is obviously the best horse of the group.

Looking to the two men the one rushing to do the protecting and the one being ushered away into protection ... Deethan notes the following active spells.

OOC: Defender: Detect Scrying, Arcane Sight, Protect from Arrows, True Seeing, Prot Energy Fire, Shield Other ( linked to the other man ). You can clearly make out a mace now in his hand, a pair of rings, his cloak, his necklace and what may be some minor items concealed in his belt pouches as being magical. IF HE LOOKS UP YOU HAVE HAD IT.
OOC: Defendee: Spell Turning, Arcane Sight, Prot from Arrows, Detect Thoughts, Delay Poison, ( and the receipient of the othere spell of shield otheer ).
His cloak, a rod in his hand, his amulet, a pair of bracers, his headband, his boots, a quartet of wands in a belt sheath, and maybe a few minor items in his belt pouch are all magical.

"Dagon. Seth. To me."

Shouts anouther. He is dressed quite well and as is evident by the earlier scrying all the men here are men of power wealth and quite probably high noble birth.

He drops his boar spear and pulls forth a powerful bouble bladed axe from his horse's saddle. Riding to him are two of the other younger looking nobles who both bear a strong family resemblance to the older man as if he may be there fathere or an uncle. Both still have their boar spears in hand and are couching them at stirrup as if to make them impromptu lances.

OOC: None seem to have any active magics. The older has a magically enchanted axe, a rod, a dagger, a pair of rings, his cloak, an amulet and a necklace that are all magical. The two that ride up. One has a magical dagger.

As these first two have clumper together and the second group of three. Three other small groups clump together as they seek out those they know and are the most familiar with. In two of the groups again familial lines seem to be suggested. With a son joining his father/uncle as a group. And a pair of younger men joining an older man as the second.

The thrid group consists of the man Deethan had pointed out during the scrying as Fathesque. He is joined by a man whom is obviously some type of man servant to Fathesque. His closes are not as noble or as expensive as any of the others here in the riding party. And indeed it is his horse that seems to be carrying the largest saddlebags many with the unmistakable clinking of bottles inside.

OOC: Group 1: None have magical auras.
OOC: Group 2: None have magical auras.
OOC: Fathesque: Fathesque has a contingency in effect. And a second contingency spell as well.
UNUSUAL. The first seems to be tied to a Greater Dispel Magic. The second to a Delayed Blast Fireball and a Teleport. Fathesque bears a magical wand, a small buckler on his saddle, a dagger, a rod, a pair of rings, and bracers. A large sack on his saddle bags also is magical. The one with him has a pair of rings and a gorget which are magical.

Deethan can now see Faelar wrapped in a cloak of invisibility magics and flying along the trail at what must be his maximum speed. He is casting a spell which Deethan recognizes as a powerful summoning and as the spell completes a trio of howling whirling air elementals jump into being above the hunting party.

The hard to see elementals swirl and turn sucking up leaves and dust from the forest floor to go striking down at the riders.

Deethan sees the one who rode over to protect the Primarch whomever he is raise his mace and start shouting the arcane words to a spell to rip apart the forming threads of the weave which are holding the air elementals together.

He is joined by the well dressed man who casts his own spell while seated atop his magnificenct black stallion. A much more powerful form of the same spell to shatter the controlling magics of the elementals.

Surprisingly Fathesque and his retainer do likewise.

But the spell that they release seems to be something different. The effects of the magical radiance they unleash are equally powerful greater dispellations. But they only mutter a couple of words. Fathesque touching his left arm and the retainer his chest.

The trio of air elementals are snuffed out leaving only wisps of leaves and twigs falling from on high at the massive concussion of dispellation magics which could almost be felt as a physical presence.

ROUND THREE

The chaos of the battle runs sheer and raging as Fathesque and the Primarch struggle to group and assess their attackers. The wild battle cries of the noble lords some a bit more drunk than they would like riding around in tight circles trying to find their hidden foes.

Fathesque reaches up and tries to summon forth a new magical effect by touching his right hand to his chest and muttering a series of arcane words but to his utter dismay nothing transpires.

[Deethan and Faelar both notice with there earlier prepared magics that the last spell which had been unleashed by Faelar in the previous round has rendered nearly all of the magic around Fathesque inoperable]

OOC: This is the ruling I made as I still have not resolved the double move with fly spell usage. I granted an additional spell to be delivered as a free action this round. I will continue to allow the double moves from this point on with spell effects but lets add this to the discussion list fopr after the battle.

Fathesque kicks his mount and rides towards the semi invisible wall of magical force that has blocked them off from the trail. Turning his mount with an expert's practiced ease in the saddle he faces back towards where the wall of force does not lie using the wall to protect his back.

Garrett sends to the group "Don't worry about the fake me. . " He sends an image of himself disappearing and being replaced by some sort of psychic construct that looks like an enlarged version of himself, which then splits in two and promptly charges the man who had first waylaod them in the clearing.

"I'll be elsewhere" Sends an image of himself sliding underground to under fathesque's position and unleashing a blast of mental energy "and that won't hurt any of you."

Garrett adds "Roni?"

Meanwhile the pair of enlarged looking barbarian fighters continue to pound at the man in the green leathers. He manages to fend them off with a quickly drawn dagger as he shouts and battles this seemingly strange foe.

Derrick meanwhile feels pleased and disengages with the archers in the forest and moves with stealth and speed leaving none to tell where he has been or where he is going as he moves as fast as possible back to the trail and down to where the main battle is about to take place.

"The one in the bushes." Shouts the embattled man in green leathers as he continues to parry off the pair of enlarged and raging mad 'Garrett/barbarians'.

"He controls the magic."

"An illusion."

Sound off a pair of the archers.

A quintet of arrows go racing threw the air targetting the lightly armored and only partially obscured Roni.
Though his earlier actions at getting behind cover help him. One ands then a second arrow tear into him from both the backside and from the left ( Minor damage from each wound ).

Whatever action Roni had planned falls apart as he spends a moment trying to isolate the hidden and semi-hidden attackers. He manages to pin point the locations of all five and through the earlier bonds of the mental link allows an image and baisc location relative to him to be transferred to all.

But he is all alone and really quite alone as all the others have streamed forward to engage Fathesque. He is on his own.

Roni chimes in "I know boss, hold off and counterspell the big bad magic types, and if nothing exciting happens invite someone fun to play with. .and don't worry about the fake me either. But I am a bit busy at the moment."

The nobles continue to churn around the hunting party with the hunting hounds going absolutely wild as first one and then another of the nobles points with outraised weapon and goes off for a short gallop before rejoining his comrades. To the onlooking members of the party they have really no idea what they are up against and no idea where there attackers are.

Only the primarch and his man servant seem to be fully aware of the situation. Not even Fathesque or the man who had been riding close with him who also showed some earlier skill as he joined the dispelling of the first magical effect to appear. The summoning of a trio of air elementals.

But both Deethan and Faelar and to some degree Shay'la though she simply dismisses it for the moment. All three seem to recognize that those other two may be able to see them through spells which they have active.

Deethan is the first to act as he moves still invisibly over the battlefield to position himself over Fathesque and the shimmering wall of force as he quaffs a potion all the while studying the battle below with a practiced eye as he plans on where to unleash his spells to the best effect.

Faelar is a little more forthcoming in his next actions. Still invisible from his earlier castings but desiring to do what he can to prevent Fathesque from escaping he takes a more active approach.
Releasing a pair of spells one to improve his melee attacks success and one to try and prevent fathesque from leaving.

Faelar shimmers into appearance flirting around the trees as he releases a green bolt of energy which lands square upon Fathesque's chest and darts and shimmers with an eerie aura before the aura leaps from him to the ground below his mounts hooves.

Immediately a pair of the mounted nobles turn and lift their bows to fire nocked arrows at him. Neither coming close to meeting the mark.

"Elf spawn. We are attacked by elf spawn." Shouts the noble with the axe.

The primarch points quickly to where Deethan hovers invsibly as well as to where Shay'la is rushing up.

"There and there. Others Lurk."

He then makes a series of arcane passes and gestures as he quickly stammers out the phrases of a second powerful dispellation. As he does so a shimmering appears in the air and then reappears directly on him.
He cries out in dismay as magical radiances and sparks of eldritch energy pop into being or wither and fail as layer after layer of magical protections and prepared spells fail and falter.

"Damn that drow spawn to the Abyss." He shrieks.

The noble who is riding closesnt to him had also paid attention to Deethan and Faelar. He follows the primarchs lead and also casts a spell at the unseen and hovering mage. His spell is that of a minor dispellation and just as had the primarch's casting the shimmering appears in the air and then reappears around him and just as before. layer after layer of magical wardings cease and falter.

[OOC: Both Deethan and Faelar note that both have lost nearly all the magical prepaprations that they had in place.]

It is then that a great burning wall of fire erupts into the middle of the churning knot of nobles cutting their lines cleanly in half. The primarch and his associate and two other nobles are cleanly caught in the fires and scream out in pain as their flesh sears and burns.

Even as Sha'yla appears in the air also dodging in the air from tree cover to tree cover.

The well dressed noble who had been riding beside Fathesque earlier leaps inot the air on wings of spell magic that hurl him 60' into the air and swerving around and above Fathesque. Though he apparently still has no clear idea of where Deethan is the pair of spells targgetted in his general vacinity have given him a bit of an inkling.

His face is a sneer of hatred.

ROUND FOUR

The flames leaping and licking from the blazing wall of fire startle all four of the horses that had been caught in its effects as well as a large portion of the pack of hounds. Barking and screaming the hounds leap from the flames but none survives as the smell of burnt flesh fills the air. The other half a dozen hounds howl and run in all directions with two smacking full speed into the nearby walls of force created earlier by Faelar's spell and knocking themselves momentarily senseless.

The screaming horses buck and kick and try to run away from the flames with foam flecking there mouths and nostrils and their eyes wildly rolling as they try to get away from the fire. But on the narrow path of the hunting trail it is difficult. With their weight and size they all manage to get out of the fire and either push off into the undergrowth or go slamming into another horse and its rider further throwing the whole area into a mass of confusion.

Roni seeing that he is all alone and quite likely with a half a dozen or so archers stalking him looks to see the pair of gigantic barbarian forms of Garrett mercilessly pounding the spokesman from earlier.
There hammering fists get past his feeble defenses this time and ruthlesslessly crush him with blow after blow. The man goes down with blood streaming from his open mouth and nose but somehow manages to stay on one knee.

Spending little more time to focus on the events Roni begins a divine spellcasting where he calls upon holy Tymora to grant him a bit of luck and a small pulse of energy expends from his body swirling off in short lived motes of magical radiance. Somewhat reenforced Roni begins the long and for him arduos task of slipping from tree to tree and keeping in as much cover as possible so as not to allow himself to become a living pin cushion for the archers in the forest around him. For somehow they had been able to see him despite his invisibility and had completely ignored that illusory double from earlier.

The battle with Fathesque is very likely to be long be over by the time he gets there though he is dead set to getting there alive and with as few holes punched in him as possible.

With unexpected suddenness a trio of fast released arrows stream forth from back along the trail with no discernable location or archer firing them.

Fathesque is the target and grunts in pain as one arrow takes him in the side. Another arrow slams into its horse causing it to winny and nicker in excitement and pain. The third seems to be turned at the last instant as a small glimmer of a magical force effect shimmers as his bracers twinkle with magical light.

Managing to control his horse one of the nobles not caught in the flaming wall lifts his bow and fires a pair of arrows at Shay'la. One strikes the chain armor that she wears and its momentum is stopped leaving Shay'la with nothing more than a painful bruise. The other misses and spears leaf after leaf as it continues on through the forest.

A great shimmering appears in the air as a glowing fist easily the size of a fully grown man appears in the air slightly above and before Fathesque. At the same moment the partially obscured Deethan can be seen flying behind a tree off the direct line of sight of the flying noble who had been heading up towards where the Primarch and his associate had been thrwoing dispelling magics to little success.

The fist streaks into Fathesque but moments before it can strike him it turns and reverses course to go flying at Deethan. It slams into the tree trunk nearly breaking it in two on the first hit and continues to pound on the wooden obstacle to get at the surprised face of its caster as Fathesque managed to somehow turn the spell which would likely have crushed and pinned him against the wall of force to eventually grind him into a bloody paste of flesh and bone.

The commonly dressed man on his horse beside Fathesque again reaches up and touches his left shoulder with his right hand and points with his left hand at Deethan. Waves of energy fluctuate around Deethan as some spell defenses fail. Deethan momentarily trembles as his spell of flight nearly falls but his magics are able to keep him aloft. And in mere eyeblinks after this a shimmering in the air appears around the manservant of Fathesque as a powerful dispel also appears around him who had earlier helped dispel Faelar's summonings. A hidden spell caster not to be forgotten Deethan notes but for the life of him he can not figure out what kind of device he is using for the casting.

The flying noble angles around to face Deethan and with a stark smile shimmers and fades as a ring that he had worn glows for a moment and he assumes the misty insubstantial form of a ghost. But a ghost wearing some vaguley glimpsed archaic looking armor. It has a helm with an elongated and slighly flattened conical top. Forearm guards with forward and rearward facing claws. The ancient gothic appearing armor is in some places so delicately crafted that the armor looks to be made of steel spun in the likenise of lace and in other areas covered in delicate looking plates intricately designed and quite solid looking.

The primarch's attendant struggles and struggles to regain control of his mount but is unable to do so as he rips the reigns left and right in vicious pulls, He is pulled by the horse into another horse spilling both riders to the ground as the horses tangle and there riders are forced to throw themselves from their saddles.

Fathesque meanwhile reaches up and touches his chest with his left hand and there is a flare of magic around him as an impressive spell of defensive energies spring into existence.

A circling series of bands of magical force each spinning in different directions and constantly shifting around so that they never spin on the same axis more than once. The net effect is that of a cage of shifting toruses of magical energy spinning in wildly chaotic orbits. A semi-sphere of solid force leaps up just outside the bands of whirling energy and turns and angles itself to put itself between him and Shay'la. As she flies through the air it constantly realigns to keep her on the opposite side of the barrier.

The shrill screaming of Fathesque's horse can be heard as the bands of energy swirling around his body at an increased tempo shatter its legbones and send great gory chunks of its flesh flying in all directions. In moments his horse is left a mound of blood dripping steaming flesh and bones as Fathesque hovers in midair inside a 15 foot diameter spell defense.

Without a loss of a single heartbeat Fathesque begins a complex spell ending with him clapping his hands together and pointing with his extended index fingers at Faelar.

A similar but different series of spinning toruses of force and semi-spherical spell encircle him. In all outward appearances it is the same. The same spinning arcs of force and the large half dome of energy. In this case however the half dome centers on Fathesque always keeping it between Fathesque and Faelar. But the difference comes apparent when butterfly shaped sparks seem to build up on the inside surface of the dome and launch themselves at Faelar easily slipping between the spinning bands of force.

A trio of such effects dart at Faelar. As they do so a hertofor swirling of colored globes of magical energy appear spinning around Faelar. Three of them leap forward and wink out of existence along with the three clusters of sparkling energies.

With a snarl one of the mounted nobles pulls a rod from his saddle bag and forces his horse to walk up near the heat of the burning wall of fire cutting him and his allies off from the rest of the riders on the other side.

Snarling away the pain of his scorched arm as his gauntlet smokes and nearly bursts into flames he shoves the rod into the raging wall of fire and as if from a pebble dropped into a still pool a ripples spreads out from where the rod touched the fire and where it passes the flaming wall is gone until soon there is nothing left of it. The magical fire is gone leaving the smoking twisted carcasses of the hunting hound sin its wake and the stil panicky neighs of half a dozen horses.

The Primarch himself allows his horse its will instead focusing on his spellcasting as he releases a powerful defenisve spell which surrounds him for a moment in a skin fitting shimmer of powerful magics. The spellcasters all recognize it as a second spell capable of turning all but the most powerful of spells back on their casters.

Meanwhile Roni is again pestered with wave after wave of streaking arrows. One embeds in his left thigh and another is nearly deflected by his armors and enchantments. ( OOC: Light Damage ). But he is slowly slipping out of the killing zone and forcing the archers to pursue him instead of him simply being in the middle of their arrow storm. He can see at least two which are being forced to leave the cover of there trees and dart forward to keep him in line of sight.

Popping into sight are a second Primarch and three near twins of the noble lords riding with them. They throw themselves at the tightest group of clustered nobles and with the sheer shock value manage to pull all three of their horses.

The original riders and those who attacked them are thrown into a near state of shock as some look to throw blows or attack with weapons. Only to halt themselves at the last moment. Others throw punches, scream curses, or simply backpedal and try to get out of the confsuion.

Garrett's mental laughter fills the mind link as he explains that the newcomers are his to throw confusion into the ranks.

As the reappearing 'barbarian'/Garrett stands in the middle of the line of confused nobles he howls and rages a horrible sounding battle curse as Fathesque stumbles inside his impressive globe of magical defenses.

And then quite suddenly The howl turns into a shout of forced concentration as the 'barbarian'/Garrett nearly succumbs to his own mental powers as somehow they were turned back on him. Only quick thinking and the highly trained nature of his own intellect saved him as he looks on in shock.

But he did have the desired effect that all the nobles up and down the line are staring at him.

Shay'la getting frustrated with the whole situation releases a powerful spell of blasting. Recognizing that at least two of the spell casters before them have the ability to turn there own spells back against them but that Fathesque's defenses must have been depleted she chooses him for the central target. But in an indirect manner.

A whipcrack sound escapes as the tiny little crystal rod held clasped in her hands barks forth a powerful spell of lightening that slams into the carnage of his horse sending pieces of bloody meat flying in all directions. The lightening bolt richocets and bounces upwards slamming through the protective bars of Fathesque's defenses and as Shay'la had expected going threw his now depleted spell defenses. Unable to avoid because of his own spell defenses he is slammed in the chest and screams in shear agony.

The angry bolt of lightening does not stop there as it leaps out striking at all those within range except the Primarch. Two of the nobles are blown from their mounts and when it gets into the bloddy melee created by Garett it enacts a scene straight from the hells as his summoned constructs and the nobles they were fighting are blown in different directions as they suffer from primary blasts and secondary effects of nearby blasts.

None of those seven stand up again and lie in smoky ruin where they had fallen.

Faelar summons forth a powerful word of power whcih he had intended to place as close to Fathesque as possible but with him being unable to fly around he is forced to release it where he is.

A great wash of energy is released as he targets the flying noble one of the only still active enemies that he can target.

To his dismay the spell simply washes over and thru him as if he were not there.

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ROUND FIVE (Done in bullet point format as Steve had to go on a trip)

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Garrett:
He invokes a power to rip from the sheath where the primarch was reaching for it a powerful looking scepter which flies to his hands.

Roni:
Continues to dodge and duck and slowly working his way forward. No more arrows hit him but he is still a long way off.

Primarch:
Teleports away.

Flying noble:
Streaks towards Garrett ( he is on the same border astral and can fight you directly there ). He pulls and activates a rod which turns into a staff with both ends rippling with powerful magical force.

Deethan:
Forced to Dispel his own hand.

Shay'la:
Casts a powerful fireball which enundates Fathesque causing him to scream in pain and fumble his spell.
But he did manage to activate a spell like effect which dispels the Dimensional Anchor.

Faelar:
Attempts to Dispel the spell entrapping him. It fails. Two more of the globes defending him wink out as he is still assaulted.

Derrick lobs a trio more arrows at Fathesque. Two of which hit him the third being broken by the swirling bands of force.

Primarch's Aide:
also teleports out.

Three remaining nobles spur and ride there horses the way they have come trying to get the hell out of here.

ROUND SIX +

The mental communication from Garrett becomes more and more increasingly confused as the battle spins out of control and takes on a chaotic life of its own.
Everyone has a hard time keeping things in perspective with half of the group being able to relay there plans through Garrett and the other half simply being unaware of what is going on.

As Garrett temporarily forgets to relay some of the messages of the others as his thoughts are focused on the deadliness of the skirmish and how many bodies and how much blood lie scattered around the trail, a series of events happen in rapid succession.

Stepping out of Fathesque shadow inside the spinning contraption of the defensive sphere is a fast moving shadow which resolves itself into Derrick as if the very shadows themselves split for a moment and he steps out. His left arm darts quickly out and under Fathesque’s left shoulder and up and wraps around the back of his neck. His right arm does so in a mere heartbeat later so that he his fingers lock behind Fathesque’s neck. And just in time too. For Derrick had timed his leap perfectly to leave the shadows and hit Fathesque before he fell and went through the spinning barriers of energy separating Fathesque from the world and which had earlier made such grisly work of the horse upon which he had been riding.

Derrick spins and twists as he continues the grapple with Fathesque unable to do anything to initially break the hold. Derrick’s legs swing up and around locking there heels together around Fathesque’s somewhat paunchy stomach.

Derrick grins as Fathesque’s attempts at freeing himself have brought his arms and hands even closer together crossing over even thereby making Derrick’s grapple that much more effective.

And then Derrick falls the four feet hitting the ground as Fathesque’s left hand touched his right arm and Fathesque manages to croak out a word. Fathesque had managed to activate a teleport so that the spinning barrier of defenses and he himself appears with an outrushing pop of air mere inches from where Deethan is busily and hastily working out the gestures for a very powerful spell.

Deethan’s eyes widen in sudden angst as he sees the spinning barrier of energy and Fathesque standing no more than a double armspan from him. Whereas Deethan’s eyes widen in hate and anger Fathesque apparently does not even recognize Deethan. In an eyeblink half of the hemisphere surrounding Fathesque spins to lie between him and Shay’La.

Fathesque’s hands reach down to his belt where he firmly grasps something in one of the pouches there.

There is a double pop of rushing air as first the armored ghostlike form that had moments before been streaking directly at Garrett appears before him inside the spinning network of spelldefenses and then a second pop of air as the pair disappear from the clearing.

Deethan is forced to hold his spell to prevent it from dissipating but unwilling to part with one of his most powerful spells when it may still be needed.

Faelar had seen the altercation and dismisses his earlier idea of using a dimensional spell of jumping to move him to a different location and leave the spell trap behind. He calmly places the reagents to his spell back in there pouch as golden butterflies streak out of the spinning force cage of bands of force with the half sphere which inexplicable spins a half circle and now extends between him and some location due east. He quickly summizes that is the direction that Fathesque is at.

Three more of his magical defensive globes flash out of existence to the magical attacks of the golden butterflies streaking out from gathering blobs of energy inside the spelltrap.

Seeing Fathesque’s disappearance and Faelar’s plight Shay’la changes the target for her spell. She points her finger at the swirling bands of energy surrounding Faelar and chants a quick magical spell. A thin green beam of light springs forth from her outstretched finger striking the hemispherical shell surrounding the spinning force effects. A spray of green sparks explodes in a shower of sparks a good two feet across as the spinning bands and the hemisphere seem to weaken and then shatter with an ear splitting sound as Faelar is buffeted by the powerful release of energy.
But he is freed. Just as Fathesque would have been stripped of his defenses by the quick thinking of the elven battle magess.

The continued sounds of screaming and dying come to the group as a short pause later Roni shows up. Whatever magic he had employed is currently removing the last of the archers in the first clearing. The sounds of their dying does not last long. An effect which cause the sadness in the priests eyes as he was forced into slaying those that he did not have the time to fight with as he rushed to the parties aid.

He sees that no one is seriously injured and that surprisingly only a few of them have suffered even minor injuries at all. He begins to offer his aid to heal the wounded but Faelar says that they need to search the bodies as rapidly as possible before anything else untoward shows up to try and force them into another fight.

Deethan continues to fly above the winding trail the words of a slow buildup of power holding his latest cast spell before release as sweat buds across his forehead. Something a well disciplined spell caster can do but an activity that is taxing in the extreme as the caster is forced to use his concentration and knowledge of spellcasting to keep a spell in the midst of a casting even when the spell is long ready to be released.

It is quickly apparent that the riders for the most part are extremely wealthy and perhaps some of the most powerful nobles from Saerloon from the little odds and ends around them and on them. Gold and platinum rings. Brooches of exquisite worksmanship. Expensive gilded brandy flasks. Gem studded clothing and exotic dragonhide boots. All trappings of wealth and power. From family signet rings it is apparent the riders are from three separate noble families.
All the items of intrinsic and obvious wealth are tossed into a pile and the items that are easily identified as magical from the blue glowing eyes of some of the parties spellcasters are thrown into another.

OOC: I will get details of this together when you have more time to examine them and appraise worth and magical properties.

Two things strike you as immensely interesting. The manservant who had stood with Fathesque and helped dispel the assault of the air elementals and later was slain by the Chain Lightening spell of Shay’la is covered in tattooes. Twisiting and swirling runes of purple, blue, red, brown, black, yellow, green, and orange. There is a large clustering on each arm, the chest and the back. In addition there are pictographic stylized representations of snakes all over his body. To the magic sensitive eyes searching all in the clearing for magic they radiate as strong magic. There are some who have heard of magics being able to be embedded in tattooes but it is not a common magical art form.

OOC: Without the feat Scribe Magical Tattoo no one really has the chance to recognize the spells in a reproducible fashion. Faelar will cast a short cantrip to read the magic and determines that there are four spell effects ( an unusual sum as this should not be possible ) Fly, Greater Dispel Magic, Invisibility, Teleport. In addition Deethan notes something which he will tell the others later as he is a bit busy right now. With his true seeing ability still in effect he also notices that the snakes are real snakes that have been grafted to the magics of the tattoes and could theoretically be released by the bearer.

OOC: From thinking about the battle later it will become apparent that Fathesque and perhaps the one who summoned the armor that made him incorporeal also might possess tattoo magics and some of there spells were far more powerful than a Scribe Magical Tattoo is reported to have allowed. SMILES…. A mystery to solve.

The second thing that strikes you as remarkable is a small blood soaked scroll of parchment that had been stuffed in the voluminous sleeves of one of the nobles. It contains names and two columns of numbers. A quick study of the list seems to indicate it is an accounting of mercenaries from some of the more recognizable mercenary company names in the far left column. The second two columns probably indicate numbers of soldiers and the cost of hire. It is a long list and there are some surprising entries. Crossbowmen from Chondalwood, a Waukeen mercenary company from Impiltur, Tehyrian light calvary, Sembian swordsmen, humanoid companies out of Hondath, Zhent mercenaries out of Daggerdale….the list goes on and on. A large number of mercenaries from all around the Sea of Fallen stars and even farther. Some names have been stricken out. Most notable the Flaming Fist and four other mercenary bands of the Sword Coast region one of which being the Silent Death company of Waterdeep.

With a surprising release of power Deethan spins and release his pent up spell. As he had been holding his actions and waiting for any sign of magical intrusion or attack with his many layers of active spells he was the first to notice the trio of invisible portals opening to the side of the game trail which the hunting party was using.

The spell he release is a powerful one designed to crush any and all magical effects in a certain area. Spells and permanent items alike are likely to fail under its casting.

An ear splitting shattering can be heard as a chaotic swirl of magical radiances leap and dance inside the area of effect as the spell consumes the portals opening and stops the passage of what was about to
come through them. A small wave of rushing air leaps outwards tossing aside leaves, branches and swirling clothing alike.

Lying on the ground are three smoking corpses which have been twisted and racked in pain by the sudden ripping apart of the portal as they were in transit. All wear the armor and cloaks of Sembian soldiers. Undoubtedly they were the first of many who were in transit. The party has been noticed by the powers that be of Saerloon for good or for ill.

OOC: Saerloon is more to the Southwest so is not the direction in which Fathesque had gone.

Using one of the items easily identifiable from the pile of magical items they toss all from the two piles into a small bag that holds much much more than it looks capable of doing.

With a last look around Deethan touches everyone while he is the process of casting the groups last telelport spell and with a ripping feeling as if the body were being stressed and pulled impossibly thin and long the party reappears back in the halls of the festhall with soft pops of outrushing air.