The trio stop talking at once. Their hoods tilt up, and each one draws steel while the sigils in their hands harden into brighter, deadlier shapes.
Zhurrem surges upward in bronze dragon form, scooping Kamakulzar higher with a hard beat of wings. The first spell-lance rips past beneath them, hissing through the steam.
The Hooded Figure
Too late. The marsh remembers what you broke.
The Second Cloaked Figure
Bind the demon. Take the wolf alive if you can.
The Third Cloaked Figure
No, strike the mark. End this before it spreads.
More magic erupts from below, wide arcs and jagged bursts chasing their climb. Zhurrem banks through the smoke, just out of reach, while Kamakulzar sees the opening below, the trio now the last obstacle between him and whatever judgment the marsh has awakened.
“I hold on”
SUCCESS (Good Athletics, rolled +2)
Kamakulzar clamps down on Zhurrem’s back as the dragon banks hard. The spellstorm below skims past, robbed of its clean shot.
His grip holds through the turn, his smoking hand locked in the dragon’s scales, staff tucked tight against his side.
Zhurrem
Hold fast. I am taking the air away from them.
Zhurrem climbs into a colder layer of wind, widening the gap with each wingbeat. The steam below thins into torn ribbons.
The Hooded Figure
They are outrunning our reach. Push higher, now!
The Second Cloaked Figure
Then force them down. Break the dragon’s path!
The Third Cloaked Figure
The mark is still there. I can feel it, keep casting!
The trio’s magic stretches after them, but the gap keeps opening. Beneath, the breached pit boils and shivers, its frost rim whitening again.