Pool of Radiance_ Ruins of Myth Drannor - Carrie Bebris [102]
A score of dragon-kin and at least a hundred soulless drow guarded the Vessel of Souls. The lifeless dark elves stood silent and resolute in their watch, but many of the dragon-kin talked among themselves.
Kestrel closed the door as silently as she’d opened it and described the scene to her companions. “I saw no other doors to the room,” she concluded. “Only a tall, narrow window with its pane blackened.”
Corran rubbed his chin. “If we drop the vessel through the floor, we can destroy it and open up an exit at the same time.” He looked to Durwyn and Athan. “If the three of us each take one of the supports and dislodge them simultaneously, the chalice should fall through the center of the glass.”
Athan nodded. “I can manage it.”
“Me, too,” said Durwyn.
Corran next turned to Ghleanna. “Jarial’s invisibility spell could prove a big boon. He didn’t happen to teach it to you somewhere along the line, did he?”
Ghleanna grinned. “He did-and a few others.”
“Excellent. Have you the power to render all three of us invisible?”
“Aye, and two others besides-”
Kestrel shook her head. “Just the warriors. We still have Mordrayn and Pelendralaar to face. We may need your spells more then.”
“Are you sure, Kestrel?” Corran regarded her seriously. “We’ll be relying on you, Ghleanna, and Faeril to hold off the dragon-kin and drow.”
“We can handle them,” Ghleanna declared.
Cloaked by Ghleanna’s sorcery, the three fighters headed to their appointed positions. No one noticed their entrance, but one of the dragon-kin noted the open door. It raised a claw and gestured toward the remaining companions, hissing a word of alarm.
Ghleanna responded with a spell that sent the beasts into a state of confusion. Some of the dragon-kin stared stupidly at the sorceress, some wandered over to another part of the room, some actually began attacking each other. Eight dragon-kin took to the air, flying straight toward the trio of women.
Faeril, meanwhile, twice rapped the Staff of Sunlight on the floor. A burst of daylight issued forth, crippling many of the closest drow. Kestrel sent Loren’s Blade and her other two daggers flying toward the nearest weakened dark elves. She eliminated two and injured a third-leaving a mere ninety-seven or so to advance on her. She prayed to any god who would listen that the warriors would destroy the Vessel of Souls quickly and that Nathlilik would prove correct in her belief that its destruction would eradicate the enslaved drow.
The dragon-kin swooped down to attack. Kestrel’s armor resisted their claws, but Ghleanna did not fare as well. One of the beasts raked her face, turning her left cheek to bloody ribbons. The mage shrieked and clutched her damaged face, then responded with a volley of conjured missiles that hit the beast in rapid succession.
Through the corner of her eye, Kestrel saw Faeril inflict critical wounds on a swooping dragon-kin with only a word. The creature plummeted to the ground. After that, she lost track of what the others were doing as she fought her own battles against the remaining dragon-kin. One of them had her pinned against the wall. She used her club to beat off his swiping claws, all the while trying to score a hit with Loren’s Blade.
Beyond, the weakened drow had mobilized. The first wave rushed in to join the combat against the intruders. One of them hurled a fireball at her. She braced herself for its impact, ready to feel the blaze sear her flesh, but miraculously, the flames passed over her like a gentle breeze. Her mind raced for an explanation until she recalled the mantle rings she wore. What was it the baelnorn had said-protection from a dozen spells? Corran and the others had better hurry.
Though the fireball passed over her without harm, it scorched her opponent.