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Abelith wasn't quite sure what they were doing, but could see a purple light forming between the soldiers. Abelith crawled to the other side of the roof after gathering her things. She hoped to the ground behind the tavern opening the back door and entering, shoving by multiple people.

Lyra took a quick moment to consider the current state of affairs, she was now in the middle of civic unrest; unwillingly as usual. "I see..." she said to Jaspur's reply. She saw what he had done with that simple act of transmutation, this guy was going to get them all killed. Lyra walked to the back room in deep thought as people were attempting to make a mass exodus from the building. There were two doors side by side but the first was jammed closed by a rusted floor bolt, she plucked a string from her violin and the bolt flew off releasing the door and the last few people out. But something came inside as well, it was vaguely human shaped but looked more like a bat judging by its facial features and hooked claws. Lyra rolled her eyes and walked back into the front area where the others were talking.

"Miss... Lyra? Can you see if she's hurt?" Ivian asked. Lyra nodded, she had missed what was said earlier but walked over to the trollkin all the same, she was on the ground clutching her ears and curled in a ball.

"Um, excuse me, Miss Troll? Are you alright? Can I help you? I know some healing artes and have a few potions in my bag..." Lyra offered, she unfolded a section of her dress and pulled out a small bag that appeared to be empty. Upon closer inspection one would see several intricate runes etched along the seams of the stitching, it was an enchanted bag. Lyra pulled from it a small cloth of soft leather with runes on it as well as a small glass bottle the size and width of Lyra's finger, it was filled with a slightly glowing red potion. The bag had looked like it shifted some when Lyra had placed her hand inside but not enough to compensate with how far Lyra had reached inside to procure the spell page and potion. Lyra offered both to the trollkin for her to pick from.

Her ears ached and head pounded. Her hearing was delicate. Not enough like a bats, but enough so that sudden loud noises caused her to lose hearing temporarily. Abelith's shriek was the equivalent of having a gun shot near by and no hearing protection.

When she pried open her eyes, there was a sudden stillness, although there was a constant annoying ringing in her ear. "Who ever did that, do not do it again." She grumbled. The troll did not rise from her position at all, instead opting to remain crouched near the floor. She couldn't hear what anyone was saying but tried to decipher what was going on.

Dog was snapping. Elf was doing something to where the door was, the other male readied his shield between the elf and the stone wall. She normally preferred her tavern brawls in a drunken stupor but a deaf one could function just as well.

Abelith stumbled into the main room of the tavern, still being deaf, much like Fridgja. She looked around seeing the Elf from earlier, as well as a man with a huge shield, a Troll on the floor and a woman near the floor. She didn't know what to do, but she assumed the two were preparing to fight. She herself wasn't a fighter, but she knew several of what she called insta-spells, spells one can use without an incantations, books or scrolls, her prefered spell to fight being a pair of fire spells.

Lyra could tell that the shrieking from earlier had deafened the troll considerably when she had responded to Lyra's offer by saying "Who ever did that, do not do it again." She may have intended it to be grumbled but it sounded much more like a soft roar. Lyra moved from standing behind the troll to kneeling in front of the troll, hopefully she would see what Lyra was still offering.

While she waited for the trollkin to make up her mind Lyra noted that the bat humanoid had wandered in finally. In the light she, yes Lyra could tell in this light, that she wasn't much of a fighter. Lyra just sighed and wondered what she was getting caught up in, she knew of the soldiers that served Lord Azerang but not much more than that. They are a brutal bunch of black knights that are as ruthless as they are frightening to the people of Barderby. Lyra hoped she wouldn't need to use her magic on them, being a witch was hard enough without having everyone know that you are. She could pass herself off as a bard no problem - nothing out of the ordinary about them, but a witch? No, people feared them and she could do things no bard could ever dream of doing.

The old elf was starting to look sour and irritable, despite the direness of the situation. "Very well." He said to Ivian and stepped back a little "Symeon, I want you to get over by the other group and stay safe."

"But-"

Jaspur fixed the dog with a look that sent him scurrying and then returned his focus forwards the front of them and with a simple, slow waving hand gesture the wall gradually parted into an archway and he readied himself.

Fire began swirling around Abelith's arms. "O-okay, just a few fire walls should be necessary if they come in..."Abelith thought to herself, putting the ringing in her ears off to the back of her mind.

Ivian's fists tense for a moment, and a fiery energy flows into him. The power of the ley lines is greatly diminished this far from the Starweald, but his heart line lets him channel it still. Currently it gives him no advantage, but the wild magic pulses hot in his heart, giving him strength.

"If you don't want to fight, stay behind me, and then fan out. If you do... well... the help would be nice."

Then Jaspur opens the wall again. The two guards in front balk at the sudden appearance of the motley crew inside, and Ivian takes his advantage. He lets out a wordless roar and charges, his tower shield hefted in front of him. The two soldiers in front of their leader aren't ready for the sudden rush and are both knocked off balance, opening them up for others to pick off.

Their leader opens his hands. A swirling orb of dark purple light hovers between them. Arcs of electricity crackle around his arms as the energy builds up, but he isn't ready to fire.

Jaspur found himself quite suddenly intimidated as he came face to face with the situation, but more-so the large leader readying a spell. If only he could break his concentration. He limped swiftly out the door and backed up along it, looking around at their surroundings for something to use. Nothing.

No there is always something. He flicked his eyes, even considering the thatch on the roof, but it would take too long to do anything with that. Finally his focus fell on the ground beneath the leaders feet and the idea struck him as soon as he set eyes on it. The quickest thing he could do was transmute the soil. So he began to transmute the soil and any cobblestone into soft, bog soil like one would find in a swamp full of sinking soil pools, and hopefully the weight of the man would do the rest of the work if he could pull the spell off.

(Sorry about that. I was working late and studying homework and I didn't even see your reply Lyra.)

Finally her hearing and orientation was returning but now she noticed the same woman that has persuaded Ivian from being threatened by her appearance. Telling by the scar tissue that she sported across her face, neck and shoulders, the troll had been in rougher scuffs and suffered far worse injuries. She ignored the potions set before her, not requiring any of it. She however remained further back waiting for an opening to get out. "I'll fight." She sighed with a tone of exasperation. Maybe with a few less guards, there will be less to invade the next town she goes to. She waited until just about everyone else was out, not wanting to step on toes or become an obstruction. She waited on the bat thing to move but eyes widened at the fire. Fire in a building of thatch, wood and stone was a terrible idea! "Direct the fire magic outside. Away from me."

Hopefully her instruction would be heeded. The troll squeezed through the narrow opening to find the party's warrior knocking the guards away. The most immediate concern was the leader whipping up a spell. The elven mage seemed to try and do something to the soil making it very soft. He had the right idea, however he was trying to accomplish it. "Watch your feet." Fridgja lifted her foot up and stomped on the ground. With any luck there would be a very small tremor sent forward to the leader followed by a cone of ice on the ground intended for the now soft and somewhat liquified ground to be made extra slippery and icey.

(I HATE YOU DICE)

Ivian sheathes his sword--against the Azerangians' armor, it's as likely to break as to slide into a crack and bite flesh. He grabs the enarmes on the back of his shield to brace it with his main hand. The soldiers reel from being crashed into, but quickly gain their bearings again. One rounds off against Ivian, leveling a strike against the knight that's easily deflected by the huge shield. The other raises his broadsword and aims a strike for the huge frost troll--thought he does hesitate a bit at her size. By then, their leader's spell is ready. He hurls the orb of crackling darkness right at the elf, but right as he does he stumbles in the sloshing mud. The blast hits the ground in front of the elf instead and does no harm, though Jaspur would feel a strange sense of dread emanating from where it struck.

Unfortunately, things go south for the little party. Jaspur's transmutation of the ground isn't quite as strong as he might have hoped, and though the battlemage does sink ankle-deep, he's already preparing another blast in his hands. Fridgja's ice attack is more problematic. It works, but instead of a cone neatly concentrated on the battlemage, it fans out and encompasses the entire area, turning it into a skating rink. The spiky pleats on the bottoms of the Azerangians' sabatons prevent them from toppling over right away, though it's still precarious, but Ivian isn't so lucky. He raises his shield to clobber the guard but slips on the ice with a loud whoop, sending him careening forward instead.

Lyra is nearly floored when Fridgja barrels past her through the small alchemically remade door but manages and artful dodge as she begins to dance to her own magic infused music. The sound holes in her violin has steadily begun to glow as her magic is now fully ready to be cast. With a slight change in tempo and adding in her own humming Lyra casts the first of three rebuttal spells thanks to her previous spell. Her sheet music book flips its pages to a spell titled "Aria", the ghostly violin to her right sends a ribbon of light that flows and bends around Lyra's allies and slams into the nearest knight, the one in front of Ivian. Sadly the spell fizzles out into sparkling dust before it even reaches the knight, the spell failed.

The pages flip again to another page, it is titled "Fermata". From the ghostly violin to the left of Lyra another ribbon of light snakes its way to the other knight that has hesitated in striking Fridgja, a floating transparent wall of magical energy attempts to block his attack. It will at the very least add some resistance to his next attack but at most it will be like the knight is trying to slash against a stone wall.

Finally Lyra's next spell is ready that she herself had been preparing. The book flips to another marked page titled "Forte", Lyra dances lithely like a ballroom dancer closer in range to face the spellcaster knight directly. Her spell is fully charged and is unleashed in a straight line, upon impact it will make a directionalized explosion of greenish energy. It is more meant for distraction than it is for actual damage. The aim is sure and the attack hits but it won't be enough to distract the focus of the spellcaster.

((Lyra's spell progression is from ))

Abelith gulped. She held her hands out, palms together, before a blast of fire erupted. It went flying at the spellcaster. IT wouldn't directly hurt the knight, but with any luck it would begin to roast him. Fire encircled the knight

Jaspur stumbled back as the spell struck the ground near him with his eyes wide in shock, realizing how close he'd come to being fried. Barely with enough time to recover the ice sheet struck out beneath him and by some miracle the wizard managed to only struggle a little before catching the tavern wall behind him and catching his feet.

After realizing he was still alive and standing up he narrowed his eyes and concentrated his energy into his next move, seeing that the leader was preparing another attack....if he could take his attention off of the leader he would help the others, but he was rather engaged with the one who wanted to lob spells at him. He focused on the leaders gauntlets with his eyes and if they were not somehow resistant to his magic they'd start to shrink at quite a pace and crush the leaders hands inside them, though upon contact with the flesh the spell would become more difficult and sweat would break upon the wizard's brow.

Perhaps her spell would not have meshed well as she had thought. The troll sighed a deep, "Sorry." before focusing on the task at hand. Smashing people. She was very used to ice, so she did not trouble standing on the slick ice but her movements would have to be a little more careful. Her eyes fell upon the knight with a raised sword and brought her fist forward into an upper cut, aiming at his now vulnerable torso. There was a brief flash of light before her which may have startled the knight, repulsed him, or not work at all. regardless, it was enough to startled the troll a bit.

The spell slinging of the party was not very organized

(Sorry for the wait guys, I had a busy weekend! )

The guard fighting Ivian catches the young knight off guard as he slips, and scores a bloody slash across the back of his shoulder. Ivian lets out a gasp of pain and brings his shield up to fend off further attacks. He tightens his fists and draws deeply on the ley lines. A flash appears in his mind--a brief shadow of the warrior's next strike. Ivian puts his shield under the man's arm before it can fall, catching him in the elbow, though not quite as hard as he would have liked. The soldier recoils with a hiss.

The warrior attacking the troll is caught by Lyra's spell. Before his arms can drop into the strike, they jitter as if rebounding off a boulder, leaving his chest wide open for Fridgja's blow. He staggers backwards, his arms windmilling, then slips on the ice and lands heavily on his armored back. There he rolls around like a flipped turtle. He'll be able to get up, but it won't be fast.

The guard caught under the warrior with the caved in breastplate finally rolls his dead (or else unconscious) comrade away and gets to his feet. Spotting the three spellcasters near the archway, he hefts his flail and charges them with a roar, spinning the flail over his head. When he reaches them, he swings the flail in a wide sweep that could catch all three of them, but it's centered on Lyra. It's a harsh blow, and he hopes to interrupt the bard's spells.

The spellcaster yells as flames leap up around his armor, but the deathly black plate seems to drink up its energy. He clenches his fist and levels his hand towards Abelith, letting the crackling energy arc towards her. His aim is true. The dark lightning acts much like normal electricity, but it also carries a horrible, overwhelming sense of dread. The screaming and whispering of spirits seems to ooze out of every shadow around them. The battlemage cringes as his gauntlets begin to close down on his hands, at a slower pace than Jaspur might have hoped, belaying the mage's next attack.

Lyra continued with her playing even as the flail came closer and closer to her. She gracefully side stepped away avoiding the attack entirely. She smiled as her magic grew more powerful.

Her spell book flipped to a new page, "Virtuoso". Four lightning quick ribbons of white energy arched there way to her allies, soon after a wide magic circle began to glow over the ground. It pulsed with a revitalizing energy. All of her allies would feel a surge of energy begin to well up inside of them, their next action would be boosted. They would also be healed very quickly if they had sustained any injuries. Lyra herself could feel these energies within, she felt empowered and unafraid.

((Sorry that 3-10 was meant to be a 3-9 on the second dice roll. Everyone gets a positive modifier next turn and consider yourselves healed!!!))

Abelith yelped when she saw the spell flying, and the flail swinging at her. Thanks to the energy boost she managed to duck, falling flat on her back. She started charging up her spell again, shooting a stream of fire at the knight with the flail.

Jaspur saw the flail swinging warrior coming towards them, it was too fast for him to react with a spell and in a last minute attempt to step out of the way he slipped on the ice and caught himself on the wall, it sent him back a little but the flail skimmed across his back and gauged a nasty hole in his coat, shirt and skin...luckily not deep enough to strike his spine.

The adrenaline was perhaps a blessing. The elf turned around and backed up out of range with a fire in his eyes. "Right you bastards." he hissed through his fangs and reached to the wall and slammed his palm against it, gripping onto a rock.

Further down the building, towards the fight, the bricks started to pull themselves from the wall in the form of a large stone leg, followed by another and then joined at the center by a stone hip...leaving the wooden foundations on one side of the building but it was enough to keep it up just fine. One leg lifted up and kicked through a window but when it removed itself the glass shards came with it and they rearranged onto both stone feet to make sharp and terrible claws and whatever tiny shards remained rolled up to stick out of the knees....it wasn't artistic, but it didn't need to be for its purpose. (no actions yet)

Meanwhile inside the tavern the canine familiar of the wizard, Symeon, watched the window smash in and moved to cower beneath a table, visible through the taverns bare foundations.

"Fall back," the battlemage spits to his men in a low voice. "We need reinforcements!" He bats at the flames licking up around his armor and steps backwards to get out of them. The two melee warriors break out of combat with Ivian and Fridgja. The flail wielder glares at the elf a moment longer, then, with a growl, slips his way across the ice to his commander. The battlemage flexes his fingers as he glares at the crew. "Lord Azerang will hear of this!" he growls as he brings his fists together. A swirling purple vortex surrounds the four men. As it shrinks in on itself, they vanish completely, leaving only a sigh in the air--and their fallen comrade.

Ivian breathes heavily. With the danger passed, he plants the bottom edge of his shield against the icy ground to brace himself, keeping himself from slipping around. He turns to face the ragtag group, his eyes going from the troll to Lyra and Jaspur, then finally to the bat woman. A sigh escapes him. "They'll be back. I don't think we should be anywhere near here when they return..." He knuckles his temple with his gauntleted hand. "I plan on getting on the road before the sun rises, and I suggest you all do the same."

(As a heads up, I'm road tripping this weekend and won't be back until next weekend!)