The old man reappeared from the fire cloud and plummeted to the ground. The party stepped back to not be hit by the falling man. He impacted the library floor near the metal case and then scrambled to his feet. Blasts of arcane energies erupted from his fingers and leapt into the sky. “This is beyond your powers. Get out of here before you’re caught in his cone of destruction. Don’t waste your lives.” The old man cast a spell and a wall of fire grew from the ground and cut them off from the relics.
“We can help you,” Jarik shouted over the roar of the fire.
The flames grew in intensity around the old man. “I’ll finish you off myself if you don’t flee from here.”
Miirik held open the door leading from the library. “We should listen to him and get out of here. I don’t feel like dying on foreign soil today. Not for a quest we could never complete.”
“They were counting on us,” Firae pushed towards the wall of flame and scalded his exposed flesh.
Gaston grabbed the elf’s shoulder. “This was a test. If your people wanted the Galachir relics returned they would’ve sent skilled warriors and more coin. We’ve been doomed to failure since the highway men attacked. Let’s save our skins and escape this mansion.”
“Gaston is right. All we can do now is survive. I doubt the relics even existed, they were never on display. I would say they are fighting for an empty box.” Arlin rushed through the library door.
The mansion rocked with explosion once more and Zdenek appeared in the hole through the roof. His floating body sunk through the roof. “Give up old man, Galachir’s sword and staff are mine. Give it up. You can’t in. Not in the auction and not against me.”
“I cannot let them fall into your vile hands. Those power relics were enough to pull you from hiding so I can finish my quest to destroy you.”
“Your words won’t justify the deaths you caused.”