The foiled dwarf let out a bellow as the Rahib disappeared before he could even raise his crossbow. “Twice cursed son of troll-whore! Where’d he go?”
Maruc swiftly scanned the room beyond for foes, seeing none he drew alongside Feldard. “I care not for my own safely however if you persist on placing Mistress Saeth and Miklos in danger I will abandon you to your fate. To defeat the evil we face we must be united. There might have been a reasonable chance to defeat the Rahib here and now had I but the chance to complete my spell. Now he is aware of us and our numbers and is free to lay snares and traps before our feet. Pray do nothing of the kind again.” Without waiting to hear a response, the cleric turned away. He was too angry to debate the point.
The priest and the dwarf’s heated discussion was irrelivant to the young mage. He was more interested in the statue, and more especially what the Rahib was doing there. As he seemed to have departed in a hurry one might assume he had left some clues behind as to his plans. Maybe some idea of the whereabouts of the Black Opal Eye. It was quite possible the the Eye was buried within the statue.
Saeth smirked, “More likely an illusion than anything.” She was still confident in her rectitude. “Still, Miklos, if you could trace the caster somehow?” As he answered, she circled the room slowly, her eye peeled for any hint or clue.
Miklos looked up as Saeth addressed him. “Follow him? Hmm… yes in theory, no in practice. There are methods within the school of divination magic of determining were he might be. Sadly this is a little beyond my learning at the moment. But what it might do to aid us at this point is debateable. He is a master of teleportaion magic and quite simply could be a hundred miles from here right now. Or further.” Miklos turned from his studies of the Altar.
“We ourselves would need to be masters of divination and teleportation to follow him. It is one thing to move onself and ones own equipment. It is in orders of magnitude more complex to transport many. We can only hope he still wishes to remain nearby to protect his gear. I cannot imagine he has sufficient power to transport himself at will or on a whim so there is still hope.”
Maruc had stalked over to the double doors to the left of their entrance, indicated ‘west’ on the floor, then took his helm off and listened carefully at the door. He was rather hoping for some words of contrition from the Dwarf but didn’t hold out much hope. Maruc doubted the he’d realised what he had done and the danger he’d placed them all in. It was fine the believe you were immune to magic, but to assume everyone else was? To surprise an enemy gives you an advantage, to surprise a friend takes it away. Another mistake like that could spell disaster. Hearing nothing at the door, the priest shook his head, replaced his helm and crossed over to walk toward the altar.
After unleashing a fine tirade of dwarvish profanity, some directed at the Rahib and some at the cleric who questioned the dwarf’s combat leadership, Feldard stomped his way up to the altar, if there was anything on the altar—it met its fate on the floor—with a scowling dwarf looking on.
Standing by the altar near the statue, Miklos continued his dissertation on magic. “There are limits to magic, range is one. If he is far away, I doubt if he could control his mastery of the Siswa guards so their reaction when we next meet them it might indicate whether the Rahib is still nearby.” Miklos gave a puzzled expression suddenly. “Mistress Saeth did you hear the incantation he cast?”
When Feldard came near the altar, the statue behind the altar began to shake. The dried clay cracked and fell away, revealing a skeletal construct underneath with 4 skeletal arms, each holding a wicked looking sword. It ignored Miklos and the approaching Maruc, and instead lurched forward toward the dwarf.