Snippet #1546453

"Sarish! Bring the light over here!"

"Yes sir!" Sarish replied slickly. It was rather difficult to move at a running pace and maintain the magic that was keeping them safe, but Sarish was good enough to keep the light on while moving at what could only assume to be a brisk jog, since the cleric had no legs with which to judge his speed. The undead were easily at bay, and any stupid enough to get near were incinerated by the Light. However, in his focus, Sarish seemed to cut out his surroundings. Between his close proximity to the light and his intense concentration, he had no idea what was going on outside of his protective glowing hemisphere. Out of the corner of his eye, distant flashes and cracks of lightning sounded, though he tried his best to keep the dagger aflame.

"Ugh. Undead aren't really my forte. I probably should have mentioned that before I signed myself up for this." he thought somewhere in the back of his mind.

His family of clerics worshiped what many other believed to be evil; a master of demons and spinner of lies. In reality, his true nature was much less sinister. He was a holder of oaths and a binder of demons. If there was a magical oath to be maintained or a demon to be shackled to the ground, Sarish could handle that with ease. Though dealing with undead was a perk that came with all clerics, Sarish definitely preferred binding demons to incinerating undead. After all, the smell was just awful.

Slowly Sarish closed the gap, and came upon the General, the light bringing some of his bolder facial features out of the shadows. He held his ground, but didn't dare turn around; he would have hated to find out that he had left somebody behind.

Order were orders, however.

---

While Sarish may have not been greatly aware of what was going on outside of the light, Duran had some idea. His eyes were only human, but years of growing up in the forest makes all of your senses sharp. A twitch, a falling leaf, a deer stepping on a twig. Heightening the senses to a highly above average level was generally something all druids did with the severe lack of "entertainment" that all the other cityfolk seemed to have an abundance of.

"Wait. Was that- No. What's going on out there?"

With the near blinding light behind him, it was incredibly difficult to make out the shapes or their actions in the darkness some distance away. With the light dilating his pupils and the rain pounding hard, Duran couldn't hardly see the a few feet past the zombies that Sarish was holding at bay. He knew, though, that something serious was going on out there. Before he could make out any more, a fireball came into view, cutting off a horrible scream. Sarish wasn't sure exactly what to make of it, but had an idea when the characteristic blue glow of Achiru's magic followed through. He become immensely worried for his comrades out in the darkness, but at this range, there was nothing he could do. There was no sneaking past these zombies, and any display of magic force would no doubt pull more on top of them. He wasn't sure that it would matter to the cleric, but any amount of zombies plus a few more probably wasn't a good thing. Becoming a bird was out of the question in this weather. The fierce winds would knock him out of the sky if a bolt of lightning didn't.

A crack of thunder brought an idea to mind, but it was incredibly risky. Without knowing exactly where everybody was in relation to each other, it was likely he would just be adding to the legionnaire-related carnage that was going on in the distance.

"Wind, give me your eyes. Rain, give me your touch. Thunder, give me your roar. Lightning, give me your spear!" In a display of potent druidic magic, it became abundantly clear why Duran had more than one spear strapped to his back. He hurled the spear he was holding upwards into the air. The instant it left his hand, a deafening boom rang over the battlefield, as if the storm was more upon them than it already was. Its speed was staggering, as it reached a distance that was not humanly possible without the assistance of magic. As it reached the end of its upwards arc some incredible distance up in the clouds, it crashed down at a speed no spear should have hit without magical assistance. The head of the spear began to glow, as the it became a bolt of lightning, magical, yet uncharacteristic from the rest of the storm. Another thunderous boom rang out as the bolt lashed out and down at what Duran hoped was a viable enemy target some distance away.