Ripping books from their shelves, the Ildonian leader continued his search for the wizard’s spell book. None of the tomes had the appearance of a mighty spell book. In disgust he heaved the shelves to the floor after the books. Cabinets and drawers were too ripped open and papers went flying in his hasty search.
Arlin hung in the webbing as bolts filled the air around him. Drawing upon the power of Dian Cécht a blast of light streaked across the room and struck the crossbow wielding Ildonian. The man fell to the stone wizard tower floor and loud snores filled the air.
Feeling the divine powers the castle clerics had taught him wearing thin Arlin brought the magic Wizard Mandel had taught him to the forefront of his mind. A blast of magical force was loosed from his fingers and slammed into the Ildonian leader. The man was sending him flying backwards into the wall. A wall which wasn’t there. The façade of stone and mortar swallowed the Ildonian.
“The spell book will be mine,” the Ildonian leader laughed through the wall.
The crossbow wielding thug woke with a snort at his bosses yelling through the wall. With weapon in hand he scampered to his feet, took a deep breath, and leaped into the wall where the Ildonian leader’s voice rang from.
“We have to stop them,” Arlin reminded his comrads. “I cannot allow them to steal Mandel’s tome.”
“The webs are too thick,” Gaston tried to hack his way through the webbing.
“I’ll get free soon enough.” Thothen cut more of the webs with his axe, slowly making his way across the room. “Only fire could quickly clear a path through these webs.”
A wicked grin flashed across Arlin’s face as a small ball of fire grew in his outstretched hand. Thothen regretted his last statement as the ball erupted into a gout of flame directed into the heart of the webbing. Flames raced along the webbing, singing books and flesh alike. The piles of disheveled books and papers scattered across the floor were burning. The three young men screamed as flames licked their flesh.