322

You unsheathe the sun-sword and point the tip of its golden blade at the red-robed druid. From his rod leaps a second charge, a lance of crackling fire that spirals through the hole in the wall and fixes itself to the Sommerswerd like a ravenous vampire let loose upon a maiden’s throat. Instantly there is a sizzling splash of blue-white sparks and flashing webs of electrical power run back and forth along your arm. Yet you experience no pain; the dark power of the druid’s rod is no match for the goodly might of the Sommerswerd.

Slowly and deliberately you draw back your sword then cast away its unwelcome sheath of fire. The ball of crackling fire arcs across the clearing and scythes through a pair of trees with a splintering roar. The severed trunks teeter for a moment, and then come crashing to the ground, narrowly missing the Cener. The druid screams in fury and frustration. He curses you, and then he shouts at his Vazhag minions, commanding them to attack and rip you to shreds.

With hatred blazing in their blood-red eyes, the Vazhag advance towards the ruins, each with a rusty weapon poised for the kill.

If you wish to stand and fight these disease-ridden Vazhag, turn to 25.

If you decide to attempt to evade them, turn to 279.