“They must suspect an attack or something.” Maskar turned toward the young speaker who looked at him for confirmation, his demeanor firm and confident.
Edwind Helmfast was the eldest son of the Noble Helmfasts who boasts a Sword Coast shipping and shipwright tradition that has kept the Waterdeep market stocked even in the late months of winter. Called the ‘Young Captain’ because even at an early age Edwind was able to navigate by the sun and stars, judge distance and weights; and he could read the weather with uncanny accuracy.
When news of an armada of pirate ships moving south from Luskan came to Maskar’s attention he knew instinctively that this is just the prelude to war with the Hosttower. This was the tactic the Arcane Brotherhood will use to divert Waterdeep and her resources from the real attack. This is when they intend to make their move. Why? Because that is just what he would do.
Maskar Wands knew well the location the Arcane Brotherhood intended to use for their magical ceremony, an ancient Netherese form of magic. Maskar knew something else. Something that he hoped the Arcane Brotherhood was not aware of, and that is- the secret of the Red Rocks. Thanks to the Samular Tet Maskar knows where the Arcane Brotherhood will be and when. Maskar would take the fight to them.
Maskar was mildly aware of the young Sai Edwind, a third-year wizard in the Order, but when the news of the Pirate came, Maskar immediately enlisted Edwind’s support along with several other members of The Order. His sea faring prowess would see them through the hazardous Red Rocks, free from duress as the wizards summon their minions to take up the fight against the minions the Hosttower Sorcerers would surely have in their employ.
Maskar gave the Young Captain a look of deep confidence.
“Of course they will be expecting something, but the key to any surprise is to capitalize on events as theyoccur; plan for improvisation Edwind, because in the theater of war there are no scripts to adhere to. We will monitor their activity from a far and intercede at the most critical moment forcing them to make a decision. A decision what will delay them long enough for us to immediately gain the upper hand and destroy them.”
Maskar removed a wand from his sleeve and gave the signal for everyone to be on their guard, the time to move is close. With the sun now overhead Maskar new they have begun, now it was all instinct.
Day light began to wane, this was the time! Maskar was the first in the air, leaping headlong into an enemy ritual.
The wind caused his voluminous robes of office to flutter and wave giving him the look of a falling manta-ray of magical destruction. Maskar looked down at the Hosttower assemblage who gathered in what looked like an ideogram in the shape of a glyph. They were expecting something- yes, but did not know in what form trouble would take.
The wizards of the Order sent their minions ahead and overwhelmed many of the ritual participants, an advantage that would not last Maskar knew. The day continued to darken giving everything a bloody cast like looking through red colored glass.
With the initial surprise at an end, Maskar weaved spell after spell praying for good fortune so that no spell go awry. Wizards landed and bounded about, leaping around the battle field in confusing directions to disorient opponents as well as to get more targets in crackling lines blue fire and fiery cone-shaped blasts.
The Sorcerer’s retaliated erecting several magical walls and summoning invisible stalkers to fight in the battle.
Then the sun went dark.