Month: August 2017

Four thousand Dwarves faced Morlecainen’s paltry force of five hundred mercenaries and Hobgoblins. Lexx held the Dark Elves in reserve. The commanders of the Dwarves and their allies made ready. The Mage Roscoe sprinkled some fine sand, waved his staff in the direction of the castle, and reported that there were no invisible defenders.

The sorcerer reported, “What you see is what we are against.”

Dwarf King Travan said, “There must be a start to it. Send forward the first ranks.”

The first ranks moved forward. Five hundred paces separated the foes.

Prince Ordrych Aivendar of Lyndyn said, “I will join them.”

King Travan said boldly, “The honor of leading falls to me.”

The Dwarves moved forward at a steady pace. The guarding force held their ground. The center of the defensive line parted, and a single tall figure started to move toward the army of Travan. He wore no armor and carried no shield. Flames flickered from the longsword he carried.

Roscoe looked through his Magick prism and dumbfoundedly said, “This is the sorcerer. He radiates Magick but he casts no spells. He is committing suicide!”

Dwarf Sergeant Saultzo queried, “What is suicide?”

“He seeks self-destruction,” Roscoe answered bluntly.

Grizzled warrior Dann Rocherr boisterously exclaimed from his position in the front rank “I’ll be glad to oblige him.”

Curate from the Fane of the Setting Sun Pirmis added, “He carries no staff. I detect no illusion.”

Four hundred paces separated the foes. Roscoe raised his small prism, pointed his staff at Morlecainen, threw a snail shell into the air, and uttered an incantation.  A pink ray streamed from the end of the staff and bathed the lone advancing enemy. He continued forward.

The mage uttered dejectedly, “He radiates great Magick. There are no effects from the Slow Spell.”

Roscoe then threw a piece of coal into the air and spoke the arcane phrases of the Darkness Spell. A black cloud left the staff’s end. The cloud dissipated over the advancing tall figure.

Roscoe confided, “There is no effect from the Darkness Spell.”

Three hundred paces separated the foes. Roscoe then threw a precious piece of sulfurous rock into the air and uttered a harsh incantation. The smell of rotten eggs filled the air. The Fireball exploded around the advancing tall figure and incinerated twenty of the fighters behind him. The spell had no effect the advancing figure.

Roscoe surmised, “He has cast many Protective Spells upon himself. I doubt that I will be of much help in this fray. Why does he not use spell attacks?”

Two hundred paces separated the foes. Travan raised his shield hand and stopped the advance. The tall figure continued to move forward.

Travan spoke to the archer beside him, “Ophirr, he comes to within bow range. End this affair now.”

Ophirr said, “There’s no honor in this.”

The young archer then drew taut his bowstring and then the bowstring hummed. The arrow arched high and flew toward the steadily advancing target. Ophirr’s aim was impeccable. The arrow struck the figure in mid-chest. He did not fall. Instead he raised the flaming blade to the sky and repeated a phrase three times. The impaling arrow fell from his chest. He moved forward. A roar swelled from the men and Hobgoblins behind him, and they ran forward at a rapid pace, soon overtaking and passing him. One hundred paces separated the foes. The Dwarves held their ground.

Casting Detection of Magick required only an owl’s eye as material component. The sorcerer pinched a dried eye, gestured, muttered the incantation, and turned in a circle. Faint emanations of Magick appeared in an area in the dense red forest to his right. Otherwise, the area was devoid of Magick. The shimmering rectangular light stood out in the sea of reds, yellows, and oranges. Morlecainen brought out the Orb of Dark Knowledge, used his knife to cut his index finger, and allowed his blood to drip onto the orb. The sorcerer muttered,” I give to you my life’s blood. I ask of you how I may return.”

The sorcerer the eased over to the rectangle, held the orb in the direction of the shimmering light, hazarded a peek into the rectangle, and saw green grassy ground. An image formed with in the orb and words entered his mind. “Donothor lies before you. Traversing the Gate requires Protection from Magick.”

Morlecainen reached into his robe, removed a piece of dried bark, uttered a brief incantation, and chewed the bark. The sorcerer felt the familiar prickly sensations associated with the Protection of Magick Spell which he had known and cast proficiently since boyhood. He gingerly placed a finger into the shimmering light. He felt warmth, then the sensation of cool damp air on the other side. He placed one foot into the shimmering light and then stepped through with the other foot… thump!

The sorcerer fell the distance from the gate to the ground and hit hard. The Gate was about the height of an average man above the ground.

He grimaced and cursed his clumsiness. “Fool!” The only thing injured was his pride. He held up the Orb. The doorlike outline shimmered about six feet above the ground. A simple Levitation Spell would work. He threw a small feather into the air and muttered another brief incantation. He slowly began to rise into the air and reached the base of the Gate. The towers of the dark black-gray castle at the base of a great mountain appeared in the distance. Unseen forces pulled him through the shimmering door-like shape. From Donothor side the gate was evident only by Detection of Magick. The Detection of Magick and the Protection from Magick spells that he had cast were still in force. From the other side, the shimmering lights were nigh blinding.

Theandra had imbibed the contents of one “Elixir of the Stars,” “Elixir of Enhancement,” and “Elixir of The Future.” Her Magick became much more potent. The liquids in the phials had given her the energy to reach the hideaway in just over a day. She had left three identical phials with Merinde. The Elixirs were protected in a Bag of Concealment and to be given to Theandra and Areniel’s daughter Cherilynn when she reached maturity. Enhancements bequeathed by the Elixirs of Mastery of Magick passed to progeny. Only one True Wish phial now remained within the little box. The inestimable power of a single unrestricted Wish Spell…Ninth Level Magick… remained at her disposal. Theandra placed the box back into the Bag of Concealment.

Theandra quickened her pace and within an hour was standing within sight of the walls of Ylysis. The wall walk on the outer curtain of the massive fortress teemed with movement. She uttered another brief incantation and conjured up an opaque globe of shimmering spheres. The colors appeared in the order of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The different colors flashed in a repeating pattern every heartbeat. The brilliance of the colors blinded anything in the immediate vicinity of the ten-pace diameter sphere. She moved about within the sphere and commanded it to move forward. She conjured and crushed a small clay shield in her left hand. A large translucent shield appeared and moved two paces in front of her. She began to move forward. The guards upon the wall-walk surrounding Ylysis witnessed the formation of the Shimmering Spheres. The colors were beautiful but unnerving at the same time. The general appearance was that of a rainbow rolling toward the castle. From Ylysis’s allure two robed figures rained more than two score spells upon Theandra’s spheres and only minimally weakened them. The taller robed figure left the wall walk. The sorcerer of shorter stature persisted with three more spells, and then disappeared.

The room was a square with sides two hundred feet long. They stood on rectangular area eighty by fifty feet in the lower left corner of the room. Roscoe briefly checked his device and said it was the northeast corner. The dimensions were the same as the room where Cyttia, Erinnia, and Eyerthrein had fought the big bad Man-wolf and the red hooded swordstress. The floor was briefly blue and then changed to black. The black stone sizzled and crackled.

A massive red Fire Dragon sat in the southwest corner. It appeared to be asleep.

Roscoe peered through the prism. He told what they already suspected.

“Auras of Magick fill this room. The brilliant light speaks to this. The greatest auras come from the area where the dragon sits. I can’t define…” Roscoe was interrupted when the dragon spoke.

“Well, well, well…what have we here? I’ve enjoyed a long nap! From the growth of my talons and fangs and the energy I feel, I would guess about eight hundred years. I’m hungry. Would you join me to be my dinner? Your…your essence is familiar. Ah…I have, or had, empathy with my sister Baylexa. You are the scum that ended her beautiful reign of evil. At least, some of you are. You look well for your age! Wait, you have elves! I love the taste of elves! Thanks, Tigarn! This is far more than you promised. You have nowhere to run! Nowhere to hide! Nowhere to run to! If you don’t fight, you won’t suffer so much!” Faranzer said.

The dragon spoke in old elfish dialect.

“Neither do you!” Dael shouted.

The young sorcerer impatiently cast a Lightning Bolt toward the old red Fire Dragon.

“If I’m going to take a terrible beating, I’m going to get in the first lick!” Cyttia shouted.

She began to conjure.

The jagged Bolt of Lightning left Dael’s hand and coursed toward Faranzer. About ten feet from the gloating beast the bolt stopped!  Shimmering luminosity extended around the massive Red Fire Dragon. There was a sound of recoil and the bolt instantly returned to Dael striking the neophyte sorcerer squarely. Dael screamed, fell forcefully backward, slammed into the wall behind them, and dropped to the floor. Gray smoke rose from his fallen body.

Dael was unconscious and near death!

“Stop your spell, Cyttia!” Cara shouted.

“He’s covered by a Reflecting Dome,” Knarra added. “Your spell will reflect!”

Knarra was on the far end of the rectangular area. She looked at Dael.

She shouted, “He’s unconscious! He can’t drink a potion! I’m too far away from him! He needs aid now! Eyerthrein, can you do anything?”

Eyerthrein shook his head negatively. The battles with the red hooded swordstress and the big bad Man-wolf had exhausted his components.

Brute placed a hand on Dael and uttered a lyrical incantation in a feminine voice. The Cure Critical Wounds Spell improved the young half- Drelve’s shallow breathing. His heart beat became more regular. Some of the burns on his skin healed.

Most kept their eyes fixed on the red Fire dragon. Their ears heard Brute’s incantation.

“You saved my son’s life!” Nigel marveled.

Erinnia had taken two steps toward Dael but Brute had been nearer the fallen half- Drelve. None of the others detected the elf’s movements or her quiet sigh of relief when she did not have to cast to save Dael. Cyttia and Eyerthrein were intent on watching the great dragon. Erinnia turned to face the Red Dragon and drew her bow.

Cyttia directed the Magick Missile toward the far eastern end of the room where it burst into the wall. The wall radiated a green glow and yellow ichors flowed from the wall at the site of impact.

Cade drew his bow.

Cara breathed deeply and asked, “Does that mean the entire room is alive? Does this Magick ‘live’ and ‘breathe’?”

Nigel noted his son’s respirations were less labored. Dael remained unconscious. Knarra reached Dael, wiped his brow, and nodded positively in Nigel’s direction when she caught his glances.

Nigel muttered coldly as he drew a shuriken, “Let it turn to something else.”

Cyttia said as she also took a shuriken, “Good idea.”

Eomore and Vanni drew bows. Deron was not a proficient archer. He did carry a small throwing axe that he was accurate with up to twenty paces.

Deron said, “Arrows aren’t going to hurt that thing very much.”

Cyttia asked, “How do we know that projectiles won’t return against us?”

Cara answered, “The Reflecting Dome reflects only Magick. Hopefully the dragon does not know Shield and Return to Sender Spells. The Return to Sender Spell is difficult to learn and unpredictable. It would require constant concentration to maintain its effectiveness. I think the Fire Dragon will make better use of its Magick.

Cara cast Resist Fire.

Kyrsstina cast Resist Cold.

Roscoe used his staff to cast Protection from Magick.

Cyttia cast Resist Fire.

Faranzer yelled, “Toast!”

The massive red dragon emitted a deeper red glow and illuminated the entire chamber with red light. He first inhaled deeply and then exhaled scorching flames that enveloped the entire area where the group was standing.

(Dael was lying.)

Dwarves, elves, and other dragons had innate resistance to dragon fire. Roscoe’s Protection Spell halved the damage of Magick and breath weapons. Cyttia’s Resist Fire halved the damage from Magick and normal fires. Cara’s Resist Fire was additive. Luck played a part as well!

Brute, Deron, Cade, Cyttia, and Dael received one sixteenth of the full effect of the breath weapon.

Nigel, Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Roscoe, Knarra, Vanni, and Eomore received one eighth of the damage.

Cara and Erinnia received one sixty-fourth!

Nonetheless, everyone received severe burns and coughed.

Erinnia fired an arrow. The arrow slipped through the translucent Magick shell surrounding Faranzer and hit the dragon in the left eye.

“Nice shot!” Nigel marveled.

The dragon roared and inhaled again.

Cara cast Resist Fire.

Cyttia cast Red Curtain.

Roscoe cast Blue Curtain which was a protection from lightning and Jolt Magick.

Thin wavy red and blue barriers appeared between the group and the dragon.

Cade, Eomore, and Vanni fired arrows. The arrows struck the dragon in the neck, left shoulder, and right thigh. They barely penetrated the thick scales.

Faranzer exhaled and again bathed them with incendiary fires. The intense heat forced them to hold their breath and close their eyes. The roaring of the flames seemed to last forever.

The damage was quartered further by the two fire resistance spells. Cara and Erinnia received one two hundred and fifty-sixth; Brute, Deron, Cade, Cyttia, and Dael received one sixty-fourth; the others received one thirty-second of the full effect of the damage.

The burns still hurt; the injuries were additive.

The full effect of a single burst of ancient red fire dragon breath would kill a hundred unprotected men ten times over!

Searing pain coursed through all their bodies.

“I’m glad these bows and arrows are elfish,” Eomore said. “Otherwise, we would be fighting with burned wood and our hands!”

Cyttia hurled the shuriken. The accuracy was reduced due to the distance. The razor-sharp edges dug into the sensitive right nasal passage of the beast. The ichors of the dragon flowed from the wound. Nigel’s shuriken hit the beast’s tongue as it protruded during the breath attack.

Erinnia fired another arrow and hit the right eye of the beast. She shook off her pain and yelled, “You should have ducked, you big blowhard!”

Cade, Vanni, and Eomore fired again. The arrows scored hits but affected the beast minimally.

Faranzer squinted. The arrows in his eyes did hurt!

“Pesky elf!” he muttered.

The dragon conjured.

Cara fired her crossbow. The bolt followed a true course and hit the dragon in the left eye.

Faranzer uttered lyrical old elfish phrases. A narrow beam of gray light connected the dragon’s maw and the elf Erinnia. Erinnia was not affected by the Death Spell. None of the others saw the tiny green leaves and white berries tucked behind her left ear.

Faranzer roared in frustration.

Cara fired another bolt and hit the dragon in the left jaw but only caused a minor wound. The archers had similar results.

Nigel said, “I have another shuriken, but I accomplished little with the first.”

“What would happen if we walked through that dome?” Deron asked.

“Why doesn’t he breathe again?” Cade asked.

“Breathing is exhausting for dragons,” Brute answered. “The dome may kill you if you enter.”

In the excitement Brute’s spell that had saved Dael’s life was forgotten. Brute passed behind each person and placed a hand on a shoulder of each. Brute uttered an elfish phrase and healed some of the effects of the burns they had received.

Eyerthrein asked, “How can you cast so many healing spells?”

“You are not a normal dwarf!” Deron asserted.

“Healing Magick does not tire me. It is time for me to earn my keep. I cannot watch you suffer, my friends,” Brute answered.

Brute transformed.

The scales of the prismatic dragon projected all the colors of the rainbow. Taekora’s charisma was overwhelming. She could coerce fealty without requesting it! Evil creatures of low intelligence would have fled in Fear simply by looking upon the magnificent creature. Her right wing was withered from age and the effect of an injury received hundreds of years ago from a ballista bolt from the guards of Red Mountain in the Iron Mountains War.

“My life was saved by an assassin, Nigel. Imagine that! An assassin! All these years the lawless have suffered the humiliation of being ‘Sniffed by the beast’. His name was Knuth Gainriches. In later life, he was known as Knuth the Benefactor. I’m going to repay the debt I owe him,” Taekora said resolutely.

“What can you do that we cannot?” Cara asked.

“Reflecting domes will keep out dragon fire. They will not keep out talons and teeth. The defensive Magick won’t hurt me,” Taekora insisted.

Knarra pleadingly said, “You don’t know that you won’t be killed going through the Magick barrier! We don’t know the extent of its power!”

“You cannot defeat this beast! Someone or something has protected the fire dragon beyond your capabilities. Eventually the blasts of dragon fire will wear you down. You have given me some advantage by weakening his vision. I’ll press this advantage. Now you must halt your attacks and close your eyes. You won’t be able to withstand the brilliance,” Taekora said determinedly.

Knarra reluctantly complied and urged the others to do so as well.

Faranzer labored and removed the shuriken from his tender nose and the arrows from his left eye. The arrow remained deeply imbedded in the right eye of the monster.

The fire dragon roared, “That hurts! I’m going to rip you elves apart!”

Faranzer saw Taekora.

“I…I didn’t know you were a prismatic dragon when I said I was going to have you for dinner. You can have this lousy potion! It’s not even Magick as far as I can tell! I’ve wasted eight hundred years guarding it when I could have been eating wizards, dwarves, and elves and hoarding treasure. Tigarn didn’t tell me I would be placed in temporal stasis; Tigarn didn’t tell me I would have to fight a prismatic dragon. Tigarn didn’t tell me a lot of things. Why can’t we be friends? There are plenty of them to go around! You eat half and I’ll eat half! Would you mind taking the dwarf? They’re chewy! You don’t really want to fight, do you?” Faranzer said.

“I’m a vegetarian- and I want to fight! I’m a thirsty vegetarian. I’ve not tasted good vintage for awhile…no…it’s too late to barter. Do whatever you can to defend yourself because I’m going to kick your butt! “Taekora said.

Even with their eyes closed the thirteen sensed the multitude of colors of brilliant flashes of light. Faranzer roared in pain. What Cara and Erinnia had started with their arrows, Taekora finished with the Thousand Points of Light. The Thousand Points of Light was an innate ability of prismatic dragons. It was like a breath weapon sent through the skin. Faranzer was blinded by the burst of light. Even a Cure Blindness Spell could not remove the blindness caused by the full force of the Thousand Points of Light.

Faranzer cried, “I’ll be a good boy! What harm can a blind dragon do?”

Taekora answered, “You can still smell, taste, hear, feel, and use telepathy.”

Faranzer sent a massive fireball at Taekora. It exploded just beyond the location of the thirteen.

Taekora was not hurt. Prismatic dragons were resistant to fire spells.

Taekora watched Faranzer intently.

Faranzer sent a wave of Cold Magick crashing against Taekora.

Taekora was not hurt. Prismatic dragons were resistant to cold spells.

Taekora took three steps toward Faranzer.

The fire dragon bellowed, “I know where you are!”

The fire dragon sent a lightning bolt crashing against Taekora.

Taekora was not hurt. Prismatic dragons were resistant to shock spells.

Taekora moved closer and Faranzer belched a Death Cloud toward her. Taekora didn’t even cough when the gray smoke surrounded her.

Prismatic dragons were resistant to Death Magick.

Faranzer fired a Magick Missile toward Taekora.

Twang! The Magick Missile reflected from Taekora. Prismatic dragons reflected Magick Missiles.

Twang! The Magick Missile reflected from the Reflecting Dome.

Twang! The Magick Missile reflected from Taekora.

Twang! The Magick Missile reflected from the Dome.

The cycle repeated three more times before Taekora tired of the ping-ponging Magick Missile and uttered an elfish phrase. The Dispel Magick did not affect the Reflecting Dome but it did dispel the nuisance Magick Missile.

“I wish I could see this!” Deron uttered.

Nigel retorted, “Dummy, Taekora stopped the Thousand Points of Light ten minutes ago. You can open your eyes!”

“Oh,” Deron said.

“Be careful how you use that word!” Cara scolded the dwarf.

Deron saw Taekora and Faranzer standing almost snout to snout. Faranzer was a little bigger. The visual loss reduced the fire dragon’s ability to attack the thirteen, but the beast’s other senses empowered Faranzer with the ability to know exactly where Taekora stood.

Faranzer took a deep breath.

Taekora took a deep breath.

Both exhaled. The flames met ten feet from their mouths. The great beasts were scarcely twenty feet apart. The stalemate lasted three minutes before Faranzer weakened. The earlier breaths had taken some steam out of the old boy. Taekora’s breath penetrated the Dome and struck the fire dragon. Faranzer was resistant to breath weapons and was injured minimally.   Taekora leapt forward and raked her right forepaw through the translucent dome. The room filled with snaps, crackles, and pops. Although her forepaw was injured by the arcane Magick of the dome, Taekora ripped Faranzer’s neck with the injured extremity.

Faranzer howled and backed up defensively. Taekora stuck her head through the dome. Beautiful scales snapped from her body as the anti-Magick shell, the Reflecting Dome, attacked her. Undaunted, she breathed deeply and exhaled icy breath which slammed into Faranzer. The icy breath did hurt the fire dragon. Taekora next uttered a lyrical elfish incantation and delivered an Ice Storm. Great shards of ice rose from the stone floor and fell from the two-hundred-foot-high ceiling of the room. Faranzer was fully vulnerable to spells cast from within the dome.

The Magick of the dome had been created by the individual who hated Magick and sorcerers more than anyone who had lived before or after him. His greatest wish was to harm, injure, and kill those using Magick. His hatred enhanced the Magick of the dome. Every moment stole irreparably more of the prismatic dragon’s life force.

Knarra screamed, “Get out of there!”

Taekora instead raked Faranzer with both her injured forepaws. The fire dragon staggered. Taekora opened her maw widely and delivered a great bite to Faranzer’s neck. The bones snapped! The sound exceeded the noise created by the sizzling sounds made by the Dome’s Magick attack upon Taekora.

Faranzer died.

The translucent dome disappeared.

Taekora spat over and over again.

Knarra ran ahead of the others toward her and shouted, “Heal your wounds!”

“I used my healing Magick, my friends,” Taekora said. She could no longer stand and slumped to the floor.

“I have nothing to help you,” Knarra cried.

Eyerthrein concentrated and started to conjure but Taekora interrupted him.

Taekora’s breathing was labored as she said, “Your healing spells won’t help me, my nephew. The anti-Magick shell draws the essence of life not the life’s blood of its victim. Any spell caster who breached the dome was doomed by the Spirit Reaping effect of the shell. We can heal wounds, but we cannot restore essence.”

Erinnia’s lyrical voice remained silent as Taekora spoke. Tears streamed from the elf’s eyes, struck the stone floor, and burst into color.

Guy Donovan does it again! Dragons, epic fantasy, an unorthodox heroine, and incredibly detailed historical setting.highlight book three. I felt I was walking the cold corridors of the castle with Cerys. Budding romance and family tragedies intermingle with fantastic beasts. I thought I had things figured out, but Mr. Donovan pulled his usual surprises at the end. Who are the good guys? Who are the bad guys? Mr. Donovan will keep you guessing. The characters are so developed that one grieves their passing and relishes their successes. I found it very hard to put my Kindle down. If you like dragons, true epic fantasy, and authentic fifth century British history, this series is for you. I eagerly await book four! Get to writing, Mr. Donovan!

The Ogre Fange found few goblins and pressed some shapechangers into service. Shapechangers were tricky and untrustworthy. A mischievous shapechanger mimicked Morlecainen and tried to gain access to Alluna’s bed chamber. A Protection Glyph preserved the purity of their relationship. Morlecainen forced the perpetrator to assume the form of a horse’s backside and face ridicule from its cohorts. Guards posted at the River Luumic reported no activity on the other side.

Morlecainen spent long hours in the Room of Sorcery and had little time for Alluna and the twins. He studied tomes, practiced spells, and often consulted the Orb, which always demanded a bit of his blood. Alluna queried about his sore fingers. When he returned from the work room a few nights after his return from the disastrous Hillesdale campaign, she said, “Your work consumes you. You miss the changes in the children. Today Theandra changed a dark weed to a bright yellow flower. Chalar changed the flower back to a dark weed. They quarreled for an hour. Little puffs of smoke came from their ears as they squabbled. The power of Magick is strong in both of them. Chalar spends much of her time playing in the hallway near the armory. When I ask her why, she says ‘My friend is there.’”

“I had imaginary playmates when I was a child,” the sorcerer mused. Memories of his mother and the family retreat, Ylysis, returned.

“Why do you seek dominion over the Dwarves?” Alluna asked.

“There is great bounty to be had in this world. I am not content to rule in this swamp. I want more for you and the girls. I think I may have found a way to do so. It will mean another journey. I may be away for some time,” Morlecainen answered.

The sorcerer’s clear view of the sky confirmed the distal gray sun had moved nearer.

The older Spellweaver, who wore the elaborate robe, spoke,” You are strengthened by the nearness of Gray Andreas. I can see it in your eyes, Sorcerer. You are no simple shaman. Be advised that any attempts to cast harm here will be dealt with severely.”

“I am besieged by hordes of Dwarves. I seek remedy,” he answered concisely.

“What are Dwarves?” a second younger appearing Spellweaver asked. His hair remained silver.

“You are blessed that your world is not infested with them. They are brutes and have no regard for nature. They mine and violate the land. If they had their way, there would be no forest standing in my world. They search for me now. Can you help me?” Morlecainen pleaded.

The Teacher said, “You are welcome to rest and regain your strength. But we must know your plans and intentions. Seilvre and Ramish will take you to a guest tree. We will have council. I will safeguard your staff.”

Morlecainen continued the ruse of being the underdog and released the sulfur granules, which obediently returned to their resting place in his robe. The older orange-haired Spellweaver smiled wryly. Was he telepathic? Did he know the sorcerer had the Fireball Spell at ready? Rarely sorcerers of Sagain enjoyed mind-reading. Keeping on the sheep suit seemed the best option at the moment. Weremen of Donothor wore fleece in order to sneak into farmer’s flocks and rob them of sheep.