He relinquished the shield from his back, quickly tightening it to his left arm and with his right drew the broadsword off his left hip. During which time, the enchantress stepped into the field, while the door slammed shut behind her.
Her black boots, which came up to her knees, crunched against the gravel, all the while she was muttering something. As far away as Marsden was he could barely make out her lips moving, Mumbling prayers to the gods, already, huh?
Marsden hadn’t a clue what she was going to do, and if it was even a spell his fellow Knight Yassym could counter, C’mon, dammit, why isn’t that thing Ol’ Man Tanner gave him working?!?
The sorceress held her right hand out and grasped her right wrist with her left hand, Oh manure… Marsden dug his feet into the dirt, trying to ready himself for whatever the crooked magician was cooking up.
Marsden hated how the will of the gods were so easily swayed and low enough to have their power transduced through mere mortals. What Marsden didn’t realize is that certain gods didn’t mind seeing their power being wielded about, most times, carelessly…
Orange lights faded into existence in front of the sorceress’s outstretched hand, palm turned upward. They seemed to gather at one point, building onto one another and a heat wave formed. Until finally flames began dancing, “Oh, gimme a break,” Marsden grumbled, his muscles tightened, he gripped his shield ever tighter, pulling it as close to his side as possible, just peering over edge.
“You seem frightened, Knight!” Grom jeered, “Perhaps you should pray to your gods now!” The old man cackled.