“It is very much Castles Marcus, you know this very well!” Jarred Mallred looked unflinchingly at his opponent, Marcus Wands and his family were an insult to Jarred’s views and everyone who came before Jarred.
“Houses vie for position, as do we from as early as Ahghairon and hisTower was elevated as First Lord… so too will Blackspire Gap rise and crush the corrupted Mage’s Guild starting at the top!" Mallred was unstoppable now. The Arcane Brotherhood… Protectors and Magists Order… hell even Sai Arunsun suspects these cabals as advocates of war.”
Looking around Marcus Wands gesticulated drawing attention to the situation Mallred had just interrupted. From the rear of the parlor screams brought on by intense labor rose above the clamor of battle outside in the streets and below within the house. Several of Syllia’s family and servants were otherwise occupied with the delivery of the Marcus' son. “Are we seriously going to do this now?”
Finnegan Blackcross motioned to Tanis Stormweather to advance to the next point after receiving the nod from Emilia who had gone on ahead despite the raging dragons in the sky and shambling undead waling the icy streets. From the shadows the Halfling Geoff emerged, “Tirisfall Ascendancy is under attack by rampaging fey of Erythnul. Do you think it wise to proceed?”
“Nothing changes- we wait for Sai Mallred’s summoned celestial camels to fight and carry us into battle. Keep your distance from the fairies Geoff but use them to your advantage.” Finnegan answered wiping cold water from his brow; the blizzard was likely to complicate matters. Arriving at the prearranged location Finnegan made some final adjustments. “Emelia, I am pairing you with Margret Foul, and Tanis… Mathias Shaw rides with you, everyone in pairs and everyone with a rouge.
“What of me?” Geoff asked hesitantly truly wanting to help but wanted no part of the fairies.
“You will be with me my stout fellow,” Jarred Mallred answered and handed Geoff a pair of cuffs. “Put these on, they are Bracers of Archery you will be my trump card.”
At first the wizards of Tirisfall Ascendancy were at a loss, confused and completely disarmed as to the origins of their hostile visitors. Rather than coming down from the sky, as was planned for, the offensive came in the form of enraged fairies hell bent on extracting revenge on the atrocities visited on their species. Everywhere magic surged and ebbed; torches that continually shed artificial light were suddenly extinguished forever. Spells surged uncontrollably as brutish Gim, nimble quicklings, and blood thirsty Red Caps descend on the Wands family estate. Inside the Tirisfall Ascendancy, spell-casters struggled on two fronts—three if one counted the blizzard conditions outside, the situation was dire for the wizards and was not expected to improve.
“Take the alchemist’s fire, it will help you fight the fey.” To prove his point Scirkel Wands lobed a ceramic pot that exploded dropping a rather vile bloody looking Gim. The young alchemist had found he rather liked the new popularity his calling has receiving; it gave him an outlet for his generous personality.
“Thanks boy, you serve the family well.” Krys Wands said meaning every word. And with no fanfare the mage took Scirkel’s offering and leaped toward the battle below. Krys used the the compound to complete his spell; the spell did not go wild instead the component infused the wizards magic missiles with tenacious fire.
Scirkel was elated and quickly scanned the battlefield below as well as the combat between the Cliffside Colossus and the White dragon above when his eyes fell on a strange sight. Through the blowing snow Scirkel could see a Gargoyle seemingly unfettered by the magic and weapons of the fairies. The path of destruction surprised the fey allowing the Gargoyle to successfully break the front line of Caps and Gim. Thinking quickly Scirkel rummaged through his haversack and presented a long Piercer tail hoping to lure the creature closer. The effect was instantaneous as the creature leaped over city streets—from rooftop to spire eyeing the tasty Piercer. Brother Rhone, as he came to be known, was splattered with blood and fairy dust; it gave it an odd regal quality.
“The baby is beginning to crown Lady Syllia.” Demia said excitedly, her words however failed to bring any form of physical comfort—Syllia was delirious with pain. The expectant mother screamed again, her throat on fire as was the inferno in her belly as another contraction slammed into her. Kight watched everything carefully, she was there to protect against unwanted intrusions after the fairies and now a rival tower have joined the theater of war; additional measures had been taken. Kight felt a twinge of homesickness in the presence of so many of her eastern race; Syllia’s mother, Demia, Memri, as well as Syllia herself.
Marcus burst into the parlor and to his wife’s side, he noted how barely aware she was to her surroundings. “Sy' we have to move you, that fracking pest Jarred Mallred is almost here.”
“She cannot be disturbed, such movement would jeopardize the baby.” Demia remarked sternly, her hand working to help facilitate the delivery. A long protracted crash and two short explosions rocked the bedchamber knocking many of the women and furnishings to the floor. Marcus turned, meaning to place himself between family and foe he did not notice Acolyte Demia
“Are we seriously going to do this now?” Marcus said his disgust clear on his reddening face.
“No longer will Waterdeep suffer the likes of you or your brother’s corrupt politics!” Mallred barked, equally as furious as his counterpart. In the moments that followed, Jarred’s Disintegrate spell as well as Marcus’ counter-spell surged with wild unbridled magic like none before known in Waterdeep
Capitalizing on the opportunity the betrayer reveals herself as Demia, Syndra’s Thanyan sycophant attacked the distracted and otherwise unsuspecting Marcus by performing a perfect death strike burying a small thin blade into his lower back. Under normal circumstances Kight could have intervened, the words of the Fate Spinner repeated themselves in her head—to use her better judgment and let Ka take care of itself. But the luxury of her better judgment never came after the surprise of witnessing Demia’s death strike—it was identical in style to Kight’s own!! Further shock threatened to break her resolve when Kight realized Demia had stolen her own small blade was now using it to kill Marcus Wands
Syllia felt the fire of her son threatening to striker her with the mind-fire, a deadly fever brought on my intense labor, as sweat stung her eyes and dried her mouth. Blurry figures swam into and out of her confused vision—she had long forgotten who was with her. Another contraction grappled Syllia and with it came a wretched tearing of flesh… a thick warm discharge of blood and fetal fluids and then all magic went awry.
Bracing the mother-to-be in the closing seconds were Memri and Syllia’s mother who was too focused on the baby’s arrival—she failed to see Demia’s treachery. Memri on the other hand did notice the move and in the time it took for Memri to draw breath—Syllia hammered Memri high on the temple with an elbow during a labor spasm spilling Memri onto the floor.
Identifying the incantation immediately Marcus drew the wand he had crafted for Sevindrakk, pointed it at Jarred Mallred just as a green sickly light began to formulate on Mallred’s extended index finger. When Marcus and Mallred spoke the syllables that shape their spells, magic faltered and surged shaking the foundations of Tirisfall Ascendency and sending shock waves throughout the North Ward.
It felt like the entire estate was coming down around him. Scirkel Wands instinctively covered his head to protect him from the falling debris that was sure to follow. However when none came the alchemist realized the fighting in the upper floors had stopped—as had Lady Syllia’s cries of child birth. Without regard for his own safety Scirkel bounded the marble staircase by two’s and three steps at a time. He paused at the sight of fallen combatants wondering if these would rise as undead; the sight of blood was still new to him. Hastily dodging the corpses Scirkel arrived at Marcus and Syllia’s residential chapter to find the door as well as each window, blown from their frames and casings. Tables, rugs, chairs, and couches also appear to have been thrown to the perimeter of the room. No, he thought, not everything. In the center of the room one small slender item rested on the empty floor. It was the wand Marcus crafted for his son.