“Look away!” Nat shouted, as he drew back his arm. A ball of flickering light formed in the palm of his hand and he flung it at the Mummy Lord who had once served this unholy place as a Prelate of Zon-Kuthon. The Empowered Orb of Light struck the Prelate in the chest, exploding into a blinding flash that seared an after-image into his friends’ vision. It seared much worse into the mummy, leaving his wrappings blackened.
Even before Nihil’s lifeless body hit the floor of the tower, Wren was flying downwards at full speed. She landed beside Erin, and gasped as she realized the full extent of the dead paladin’s wounds. The woman was all but beheaded, and her entrails bulged from the horrible gash across her midsection. “Pharasma – please grant me the power to revive my friend!” Wren prayed earnestly. She closed her eyes briefly, seeking to commune with her goddess in this unholy place. Then she bent and kissed Erin lightly on the forehead, gently parted her pale lips, and exhaled into her open mouth. A golden light flowed out of Wren and into Erin as the Breath of Life passed between them. Erin’s wounds began to close and slight color returned to her cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open, and she drew in a ragged breath. “By the gods – that hurt!” she gasped.
With an ear-splitting roar, the umbral dragon lowered its head, beat its wings, and flew screaming down directly at Tomas. It withheld its breath weapons as it flashed over the party, but raked its claws at Tomas’s head. He ducked, and the claws narrowly missed. He heard the rush of its passage, and felt the cold air batter him as the mighty wings beat. But something just felt a bit off, and as he squinted up to draw a bead on the great beast, for just a moment he could see the morning sun shining through it. “It’s an illusion!” he cried.
Erin was grateful that Nat’s Fly spell was still in effect, because otherwise she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand. The Greater Shadow that had emerged from the wall of the castle gatehouse had sapped her of so much strength that her armor felt like it was made of lead. She couldn’t imagine taking another hit like that, so she stepped back away from the smudge of undead darkness, and then lifted off into the air, coming to rest on the gatehouse roof, near Tomas. “Anyone need healing?” Laori called from her perch atop one of the nearby towers. Erin waved her hand weakly, and Laori was off in a shot, landing lightly on the roof beside her. “I need my strength back,” Erin said, her voice hoarse. “Zon-Kuthon to the rescue!” Laori cried, giggling, then called upon the power of the Midnight Lord to perform a Lesser Restoration. The paladin of Iomedae grimaced as the unholy power washed over her, but she wasn’t too proud to accept the newfound strength that coursed through her limbs.
