Edmond
Bound and gagged, the man was no threat to their plan anymore, Edmond was reasonably certain of it. Though paralysis spell Korobar had woven over him had worn off by now, the man was still unable to move, as Edmond had made sure to bound him tight. The only thing he granted him was making sure that he can breathe, but everything else was secondary. He should be thankful he would survive this day, so that he could live to see the new world Borbarad promised.
It wouldn't be long now. Korobar had taken position already and Edmond was waiting within the mill itself. The man he had captured was in the very same room, conscious, but gagged and unable to speak. His eyes radiated fear. If only he knew that there was no reason to be afraid. A decision was made, concerning his fate and he would be spared.
Edmond sighed. “Have no fear”, he mumbled, without directly looking at the man. Liscom had spoken these words to him, half a decade ago, when he himself had been a mere boy, frightened by a truth that threatened to shatter all he held dear in his life. It had been hard to accept Liscom's truth, but he had grown stronger thanks to it. “You will not die today” Briefly, he glanced at the man, seeing a gaze that was a mixture of fear and accusation. “I promise”
The man mumbled something and Edmond smiled thinly. These were the people he did this for, commoners who would spend their entire lives in mediocrity, never reaching their true potential. “One day, you will thank me”, he promised. “Pray that we succeed, because will usher in a new age of freedom for all of us”
Undoubtedly, the man understood little of these things. He was like the people Edmond had been around for most of his early years, a simple man with simple goals, content in the small life he had. Working in the mill all day, hard, honest labour for a meagre amount of coin, fearing his lords, fearing his gods. He was unable to see the cage they had forced him into.
Liscom could have opened his eyes. His mentor would have taken the time, spoken gently to the frightened man and explained it all. Edmond was no Liscom and he knew fully well, he lacked the man's gift, the ability to persuade and inspire. All he could do was to wait, to follow what he knew was right, until the world would understand.
A sound from the open window caught his attention. He gave the man a nod, before moving towards the opening. Glancing out of it, his heart began to beat faster. There, down the road that led up to Broonsgorge, rode seven figures, clad in dark cloaks, slowly making their way down the path. Behind them, the sun was rising. Though their features were obscured, there was no doubt about their identity.
Edmond took a deep breath, as he narrowed his eyes. With a shaky hand, he placed his staff in the open window, taking careful aim. Though the fireball he was about to conjure was destructive like nothing else in his arsenal, he wanted to make sure. It was a draining spell, tiring to mind and body, depleting his reserves of arcane energy quickly and as such, he wouldn't have more than one chance.
He aimed at the very centre of the group. Briefly, he closed his eyes and he knew, vengeance would be his at last. Liscom would be avenged and soon, Borbarad would be freed from his prison. Then, with new-found confidence, he unleashed the spell. “Ignisphaero”, he mumbled and in an instant, heat began to radiate from his staff. A small orb of bright fire formed at its very end, darting to where he pointed his staff at. It was as fast as an arrow and even if any of the seven would have looked up, they wouldn't have been able to dodge it.
As it hit the centre of the group, it exploded. What had previously been a tiny orb of fire, not larger than a clenched fist, grew into a devastating sphere. Though it was gone as quick as it appeared, it did its work. Horses and people were thrown into the air, torn apart, burned alive, devoured by the hungry flames. The actual magic behind the spell faded quickly, but the flames it left were very much real and wouldn't leave so easily.
With a sigh, Edmond sank to his knees. There were spells more simple than the Ignisphaero, less demanding, but also less rewarding. He was a trained mage, but nowhere near the level of his teachers, who were decades ahead of him, or even the famed archmages, for whom such a spell was almost effortless. But nonetheless, he was good enough and he had done his part.
Groaning and wailing, the survivors of his attack crawled away, some of them almost unscathed, some of them close to death. Three of the seven would never rise again. Four of the horses hadn't survived his assault, the remaining three rushed away in panic, one of them burning bright. One man, the one who had been riding first, was jumping up. His dark cloak was smouldering and even from afar, Edmond could hear his panicked gasps. Despite his momentary exhaustion, he felt a grim satisfaction as he knew, Delian of Plainsbridge was about to meet his end.
The agent started to run, back up to Broonsgorge. “Help!”, he yelled. “You have to help me!” But he was not fast enough, for in this moment, Korobar made his move. A bolt of pure darkness tore through the world, from the necromancer's staff towards Delian of Plainsbridge, faster even than Edmond's fireball. It hit the fleeing man in the shoulder piercing through it, causing a grievous wound, before hitting the path in front of him, where it caused a tiny explosion that knocked him back.
In triumph, Korobar stepped out of the underbrush. Walking past the dead, dying and fleeing members of Plainsbridge's mercenaries and through the small fires that had formed around the charred spot where Edmond's fireball had touched the ground, he wasn't in a hurry. The wind played with his wild hair and beard and the black robe and with a triumphant grin, he stared at his arch enemy.
“Good morning, Agent Delian”, he growled, his Norbardian accent even thicker than usual. With his staff, he pushed the injured man onto his back and in this moment, Edmond noticed something. Korobar's smile faded, as he stared at his downed opponent and a gasp left his throat. “You...”, he exclaimed, his staff almost touching the man's dark brown hair. “You are not Delian...”
He didn't manage to get any further. In this moment, a crossbow bolt, fired from somewhere out of Edmond's field of view, pierced Korobar's shoulder. The necromancer yelled in pain, as he staggered to the ground and in horror, Edmond realized that he had been mistaken. This was an ambush, yes, but they weren't the ones who had planned it. No, the Middenrealm agent had tricked both of them.
“Now!”, a male voice called and Edmond heard someone rushing past the mill. His eyes widened with sudden panic, as he himself charged to the ladder that led down to the ground level of the building. A whole group of decoys, sent to lure the two mages out... it was a callous thing, doing what Plainsbridge had done and Edmond knew, even Liscom would be impressed by this cold move.
Below him, someone slammed steel against the door of the mill. Edmond had been cautious enough to block it, yet it wouldn't hold long against such a heavy assault. His most devastating spell had been wasted on the wrong targets, likely a group of peasants the Middenrealm agent had used to turn the tables. His trained mercenaries, they were likely still by his side, with the exception of the one who was breaking through the door of the mill in this very moment.
It was a brute of a man, with short-blonde hair and a body packed with muscles, the sort that was good for little but physical labour and war. Unfortunately, it meant he was the type that could break Edmond in two with his hands alone. He held a greatsword and was using it with precise movements, to hack the unfortunate door to pieces.
Though the fireball had been draining on his arcane powers, Edmond still had a bit left within him. The rest would return after getting some sleep, but unfortunately, that was not an option right now. Silently, he cursed himself for riding through the Dragongap for the whole night instead of resting, as he felt exhaustion clouding his senses.
With a growl, the brute kicked through the last remnants of the door and in this moment, Edmond unleashed his next spell. A blinding ray of light flared up and he himself knew to keep his eyes closed. The mercenary was surprised, however and though the light was gone as quick as it came, it had an effect on him. Though mostly a harmless spell, it had taken his sight for a brief moment and this was all that was necessary to turn his determined first attack into a blind swing, which Edmond had no problem dodging.
As his opponent staggered forwards, he quickly regained his senses. With an angry roar, he spun around, taking a swing at Edmond with his greatsword. It still wasn't a strike directly aimed at him and as such, Edmond blocked it with his staff. Where normal wood would have broken, a mage's staff was durable. Infused with arcane energies, it was an artifact and almost indestructible by conventional means. As such, the thin staff held against the sturdy greatsword, even if the force behind it made it hard for Edmond to hold onto it.
The mercenary narrowed his eyes. “Give up, little mage”, he barked. “Plainsbridge has tricked you, anticipated your move ever since the people of Treybirch warned us about you. And now we have you outnumbered. Your friend is down and you're exhausted” He grinned. “He wants you alive, to give you a trial down in Rommilys”, he claimed. “Unless you want to die right now, in that case I'll chop your head off” He gave Edmond and infuriating wink, as he pushed against the staff and it took the mage a lot of effort to hold against it. “If you prefer it, I'll claim you put up a fight”
Without warning, he pulled the sword back and Edmond staggered forwards. In the same moment, the mercenary swung his sword at him. Edmond was by no means a fighter. Few mages had received any martial training at all and he was certainly no exception. He wasn't able to do more than to blindly swing his staff around, desperately hoping he could somehow... yeah, do what exactly? Overcome this opponent? Surely not. He was exhausted, unable to do much in terms of magic and forced into a tiny space with a trained fighter. The best he could do was to delay the inevitable by a few moments. But he was a follower of Borbarad's teachings, a student of Liscom the Fasarian. He would never surrender.
Firmly gripping his staff, he parried another strike, but this time, the mercenary held on to his sword with just one hand, still strong enough to hold against Edmond. The other hand, clenched to a fist, delivered a heavy punch into his face. Edmond groaned in pain, as he sunk to the ground, the mercenary now towering above him. “Give up and I'll spare your life!”, the man promised. “Can't speak for the agent, but I have no desire to kill you”
“Edmond, watch out!”, the familiar voice of Korobar sounded and as glanced to the side, the mage saw the necromancer back on his feet, surrounded by the smouldering corpses of Edmond's Ignisphaero. As if the crossbow bolt in his shoulder didn't bother him in the slightest, he charged towards the mill.
The first of Plainsbridge's fighters, a sturdy, short-haired woman, tried to cut him off, but the necromancer easily parried her strike. It was clear from the way he moved that he was no stranger to combat, as his staff heavily hit the woman's kneecap, causing her to lose her balance. He followed with a swift, brutal strike to the chin, before he ran past her.
Behind her, more mercenaries came into Edmond's field of view. One of them, a dark-haired dwarf, pointed his crossbow at Korobar, who just in this moment reached the entrance of the mill. “Fortifex!”, the necromancer yelled loudly and the bolt stopped mid air, blocked by an invisible wall that was covering the entire hole where the door used to be.
Edmond sighed, knowing that the necromancer had bought them even more time. It changed little about the brute they were now both trapped with. The man was carefully eyeing his new opponent, taking a step back, to be in a position where he was able to fight against both of them at once. “You're brave, necromancer”, he growled, though Korobar merely raised an eyebrow. “It is not bravery when you are going to win”, he replied and a mocking smirk appeared on his face. “Therefore, you must be a very brave man”
The man narrowed his eyes, as Edmond glanced at the spell that blocked the door. Six figures had gathered there, the dwarf with the crossbow, furiously reloading his weapon, the sturdy woman and a man with similar features, likely siblings, as well as a lanky, tanned boy and a blonde girl, a pretty one, both likely a bit younger than him. Aside from the dwarf, they all looked concerned, the pretty girl even close to a panic.
And then there was a man who wore merely thin leather above attire far too fine for a common mercenary, accompanied by an elegant, high-collared longcoat. He was sturdy and slightly overweight, with a thick neck and a fleshy face. His blonde hair was tied into a short ponytail and he glared at them carefully, with calm, cunning eyes. Edmond felt a familiar hatred, as he finally laid eyes on Delian of Plainsbridge.
“Don't play with them, Brodar”, the man spoke. “They are quite dangerous” A wide sneer formed on Korobar's face and as the mercenary made his move, he merely pointed his staff at him. And Edmond realized, unlike himself, Korobar had been more careful with his powers. He was far from exhausted. “Paralysis”, he barked and his voice got almost drowned by the panicked gasp that came from the girl in Delian's company. The brutish mercenary stopped in the middle of his swing, his face not even managing to show the confusion his eyes so clearly conveyed.
His teeth had an unhealthy brownish tone to them, as Korobar's sneer widened into a genuine grin. “Why, Delian, it is certainly a pleasure”, he said, as he took a mocking bow in front of the arcane wall. Delian narrowed his eyes, while the girl turned around. “We have to do something”, she hissed. “Agent Delian, you must know what to do!” There was panic in her voice, something that grew far beyond the reasonable concern a fighter had for a companion in trouble.
“Shut up, Geshmine”, the dwarf snarled. “Let the man think, will ye?” Delian nodded ever so slightly. “Korobar”, he said tonelessly. “Last time we met, I thought you died and yet here you are... surprisingly alive for a man of your condition. Even at your lowest, I thought a pact would be beneath your dignity”
Korobar's smile faded in an instant. “A pact you forced me into, you and your Middenrealm hounds!”, he barked, to which Delian merely shook his head. “Is that the lie you tell yourself?”, he replied, as he glanced at Edmond. “Truth be told, your friend here had a choice, mage! I don't know what lies he told you, but he has no one to blame but himself for his current predicament”
Noticing Edmond's silent fury, he instead looked back at Korobar, shrugging slightly as he turned away from him. “Korobar, the Tobimora Shadow, or whatever you like to be called”, he proclaimed. “You are under arrest for over two dozen cases of abduction, torture and murder, for crimes of arcane and necromantic nature in the Bornland and Tobria. You are under arrest for making a pact with the Nether Hells, forfeiting your life and your eternal soul”
Korobar's laughter cut him off. “Oh please, Delian!”, he replied. “You dare to judge me? You are a spy, a Middenrealm agent. There is blood on your hands, as much as there is on mine or even more. The seven who came first... peons and farmhands, I presume?” His grin returned, equal parts ferocious and repulsive. “Did they know of the danger you so readily anticipated, your little pawns?”, he chuckled. “You judge me for being a demon's slave, but what are you but a slave yourself? The difference is, I serve a goddess, whereas your master is merely a mortal. You are nothing but Dexter Nemrod's hound!”
With these words, he grabbed the crossbow bolt that was still located in his shoulder. As if he didn't feel it at all, he pulled and slowly, with a sickening sound, he removed it from his body. A disgustingly sweet smell filled the air and Edmond realized, the blood on the crossbow bolt was thicker and a bit darker than it should be. By Borbarad, what had the pact done to this man?
“And she can be generous, the Queen of Undeath, my Lady of Nightmares”, the necromancer spoke, as he glanced at the bolt, then at the paralysed mercenary. “Help me with this lunk”, he spoke. “We need to get him upstairs” This caused a panicked scream from the young woman in Delian's company. “No!”, she yelled, as she smashed her sword against the invisible wall, to no avail. “Help me with this! We need to break through”
Delian nodded. “Break this down”, he ordered the other mercenaries. “Korobar, you know this won't keep me out for long” The necromancer chuckled. “I don't need very long”, he replied. “This shall not be our last dance, Agent Delian” With this, he grabbed the mercenary and with Edmond's help and significant physical effort, they actually managed to move him, first through the room, then up the stairs. However, Delian was right with one thing... Edmond knew, the Fortifex would not hold forever and as ignorable as her efforts were for the time being, the girl had the right idea. For a wall of arcane energy, it was surprisingly simple to break it down by blunt force.
“What are we going to do?”, he growled, realizing that Korobar seemed oddly calm. By now, he had to be at the end of his own powers as well and yet, where Edmond felt anxious about the six armed fighters out there, Korobar was calm as always. “I admit, I underestimated Delian”, Korobar spoke up. “Sending these people to their deaths, so that he and his actual companions could ambush us instead... I begin to see how he was able to outwit your master”
Edmond narrowed his eyes, as Korobar shoved the paralysed mercenary to the ground. The man landed harshly, without moving a single muscle. By now, the confusion in his gaze slowly turned to fear. Edmond himself had been subjected to the effects of a Paralysis spell before, during his training and he knew how dreadful this was, unable to move at all, to do anything but breathing. The effect it had on a human mind was shocking, yet undeniably fascinating.
“He won through trickery, then and now”, Edmond insisted and Korobar shrugged. “What matters is that he won”, the necromancer replied sharply. “Then for certain... now however, we shall see” He shook his head and sighed. For a second, a dark expression flashed over his face. “By Thargunitoth, I should have seen it coming”, he mumbled, as he reached to the small bag by his side. “It is how I would have handled this”
“And now?”, Edmond repeated, impatiently. He knew, the paralysis spell would not hold the mercenary for long and neither would the barrier keep out the rest of his group. Korobar was clearly stressed, though he maintained a calm voice, as evidenced by the drops of sweat that were running down his pallid forehead. Perhaps they could take down one or two, but all six of the opponents out there? Delian of Plainsbridge would be getting away once more and he was helpless to do anything about it.
“Now I will resort to something I would have preferred not to”, the necromancer spoke, as he opened the bag. “Give me something heavy, a hammer would be perfect” Edmond raised an eyebrow, though he did as he was asked. Thankfully, there was indeed a sturdy wooden hammer lying on a table, close to where he had brought the owner of the mill.
“There you go”, he spoke, as he turned back to Korobar. To his surprise, the necromancer held something in his hand, a pointy spike made out of a shimmering metal, almost as long as his outstretched hand. “Is this...?”, he gasped and Korobar nodded. “Mindorium”, he replied. “A remnant of the treasure your old master dug up in his mines, down in the Gorian desert” A mischievous grin formed on his face. “A gift from Sulman, infused with powerful magic”
He pointed the spike at the mercenary's forehead. The man's eyes widened as much as possible, with naked fear, but the fact that he was able to do this at all was proof enough that the spell was getting weaker. Soon, he would be able to move his body again and then, they'd have a terrified, pissed off brute against them. Perhaps it would be for the best to cut his throat, but Edmond knew, Korobar had a plan.
“Domination magic is not my forte, but Sulman knows some people who are surprisingly good at it”, Korobar explained. “And they created these” He opened his bag again, revealing five additional needles. “I was assured that this procedure will not kill the victim”, he added, almost as if he meant to reassure the mercenary. Slightly digging the spike into the man's forehead, Edmond heard a desperate, weak groan of pain. “But I suppose there's only one way to find out”, the necromancer added, as he raised the hammer. And with a single hit, he smashed the spike deep into the man's head.
The mercenary should have been dead. By all accounts, it was as if an arrow had pierced his skull. Almost the entirety of the spike was embedded in the centre of his forehead, piercing the brain. Blood was running down the man's face and despite the spell, he was now screaming in agony. As a mage, Edmond realized at once what happened, even if he couldn't quite claim to understand the specifics, not without careful hours of analysing it. It was... fascinating.
“He lives”, he spoke and Korobar nodded. “I bet he prefers dying by now”, he replied callously. After a moment, in which Edmond noticed that the man's eyes widened, while his face reddened, he realized that something was missing. Korobar sighed. “Breathe”, he spoke and with a deep gasp, the captured mercenary let air into his lungs.
“It works...”, Korobar mumbled. “This spike was enchanted with a devious form of the Imperavi” He rolled the r just a bit longer than necessary, holding it on his tongue with delight. “His mind is still in there, but his body belongs to me, truly. There is nothing he can do about it, no matter how much he struggles. He will do whatever I tell him to do”
Edmond nodded. “But he is still just one man. How are we...”, he began, before he cut himself off. Involuntarily, he glanced at the captured miller, hoping that his decision to spare his life wouldn't mean that the man would become Korobar's plaything now. Domination magic was undeniably effective, yet Edmond had always considered it to be distasteful, not in line with Borbarad's teachings. After all, the free will was the most sacred of goods.
“Worry not, I won't harm your friend here”, Korobar spoke in a mocking tone, though he raised an eyebrow, as if he just now realized that Edmond had spared the man. “Each of these needles costs a fortune and they cannot be used more than once. So, I surely won't waste them on a worthless peasant” He shook his head. “You, my thrall! I have questions” His devious smile returned. “What is your name and what are you doing here?”
Though his voice was strained with pain, the man indeed began to speak. “I am Brodar Landmarshes”, he pressed through clenched teeth. Tears were running down his cheeks, mingling with with the blood that was still pouring out his forehead. “I lead the Formidable Six. We are mercenaries, hired by Delian of Plainsbridge to hunt you down”
“A leader, I see”, Korobar said, as he chuckled. “I suppose after this, a change of leadership will be crucial” He gave Edmond a nod. “This here is Edmond”, he introduced the mage. “In case anything happens to me, you will follow his orders as if they were mine” Briefly, he closed his eyes, before he pointed at the wall to his right. “Now, Brodar Landmarshes, put that strength of yours to use. Tear a whole into the wall. This is thick wood, so don't hold back. Use your sword and ignore any pain this will cause you” He opened his eyes again, glaring at the captured mercenary, who was forced back onto his feet by an invisible power.
Reluctantly, but unable to resist, he staggered towards the nearby wall. As he started to hit it with his sword, Korobar grinned. “The canopy is down there. Once Brodar created a hole, we'll climb down onto it and then to the ground, where the horses are waiting”, he stated. “It will take a while , but my Fortifex will hold longer” He knelt down and Edmond sighed. “He might break a bone”, he stated, to which the necromancer shrugged. “He was dead the moment he decided to accept Delian's offer”, he replied coldly. “Middenrealm Intelligence cares little for their pawns and beyond that, he made the mistake to get in my way”
In this moment, a noise from the window caught their attention. Edmond just had enough time to realize that someone had climbed up there, as the dwarf already threw something at them. Edmond let himself fall to the floor, expecting a crossbow bolt or something more sinister, but as he heard the gasp, he realized he was not the intended target. Instead, a heavy stone fell to the floor, now covered in dark, thick blood and a second later, Korobar sunk down as well.
“Oh shit...”, Edmond managed to mumble, as he heard the invisible wall breaking below him. Without Korobar's conscious efforts to keep it up, it was gone in an instant. The necromancer was bleeding heavily, his eyes closed and as Edmond shook him, a mere groan came out of his throat. So, he was alive at least. Strangely enough, Edmond was not sure if he should be happy or disappointed about this turn of events.
As he gazed to the window, he saw that the dwarf was still dangling there, now trying to point his crossbow at the mage. Aiming with a single hand and using the other to cling to the windowsill proved to be a difficult task, so Edmond had enough time to rush towards him, staff in hand. With a roar, he slammed the end against the dwarf's chin, causing the man to lose his balance. With a scream, he fell down, landing heavily on the ground while below him, the four mercenaries rushed into the building. And this gave Edmond an idea.
“Brodar!”, he barked and the mercenary looked at him. With Korobar down, he had stopped his attempts to break a whole into the wall, though the spell still had a firm grip on him. He realized, it had to be the spike in the man's forehead, upholding the spell until removed, in which case he was not sure if the man's life could still be saved. But that was not his priority.
“Grab him”, he ordered and Brodar followed by picking up the unconscious Korobar. “And now, we go out of the window” Though Brodar's eyes widened, he was unable to resist the spell. Clinging onto Korobar, he charged towards the window. Edmond knew, it was their only chance. Already, he heard the first mercenary running up the stairs. “Brodar!”, the young girl's voice sounded, but Brodar didn't even react. “Hold on, we're coming!”
And without hesitating, the massive man charged towards the window, jumping through it and falling down for over two metres. Edmond took a deep breath, as he glanced out of the opening. Having landed first, Brodar had suffered the most from the fall. An expression of pure agony was visible on his face, his leg twisted, blood being visible beneath him, though he was still alive and conscious. The dwarf was dragging himself away from them, though Edmond knew he would be fine. His kind was sturdy, able to withstand such a force. And Delian of Plainsbridge... if anything, the man seemed surprised by this turn of events.
“Brodar!”, the girl's voice sounded again, as she reached the top of the stairs. Her gaze met Edmond's, as her eyes widened. “Where is he...”, she gasped, but he did not reply. With a frown, he realized he had no other choice and as such, without hesitating and more, he jumped through the window as well. “Don't!”, the girl screamed, but it was too late.
For a moment, it was as if he could fly. For just a second, it was a breathtaking feeling and he smiled. Then, however, came the landing and Edmond had no idea how to properly do that. A second later, he heavily crashed onto Korobar, who in return was lying on Brodar Landmarshes. The force was enough to press the air from his lungs, but with two men to lessen the impact, he was certain it wasn't as bad as it otherwise could have been. That being said, it still hurt like hell.
With a groan, he rolled himself off both and the first he noticed was the expression of curious surprise on Delian of Plainsbridge's face. The agent placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, a confident smirk on his face. “Certainly unexpected”, he admitted, before he drew his weapon. “I take that as your way of surrendering?”
Edmond wanted to spit something into his face, but all he managed to utter was another pained, dazed groan. Suddenly, the groan became even louder, followed by a harsh command. “Brodar, defend us”, Korobar managed to say, as he rolled himself off the mercenary. Despite the fact that several of his bones had to be broken, the man followed the order at once, lifting himself up as if everything was fine. By now, it became apparent that his left leg was badly twisted.
“Get up...”, Korobar sighed, as he dragged himself towards Edmond. He even extended a hand, but helping the mage proved to be too much. The very second Edmond was standing again, Korobar's legs gave in and the necromancer would have dropped down again, if not for the mage holding him. It was clear, he needed rest. They both did, but to do that, they had to get to the horses first.
While the dwarf was still staggering away, Delian of Plainsbridge stood his ground. Three of the mercenaries were behind him, having left the mill again, while the young woman stood at the window, staring at the scenery with horror. “Brodar!”, she yelled. “Don't...” She was shaking and for a second, Edmond was certain she'd jump after them to stop the dominated man from doing anything.
Unfortunately, she had no say in that and neither had Brodar. Korobar was out cold, so it was Edmond who had to decide on what to do next. For the moment, the three mercenaries and Delian of Plainsbridge just stood there, unwilling to attack the massive brute who was standing between them and the two mages. But this wouldn't hold long. They had to get to the horses and Brodar could, perhaps, cover their retreat. At the same time, Plainsbridge was just there, so close. He was no fighter, just a spy, Nemrod's glorified bureaucrat. Maybe Brodar could be swift, could kill him before the others could intervene. Maybe revenge could still be his at last. Or perhaps that would compromise their own retreat. “Brodar...”, he said, knowing exactly what his order would be.
[Order Brodar to cover their retreat] [Order Brodar to kill Delian of Plainsbridge]
