Arkamir weaved his webs, but the magic of the sick mage was simply too powerful for now.
A sudden blow of fire almost broke him, but he snarled lightly and simply smiled and shrugged it off.
Laughing he eyed you with hatred and among his peers and slaves, rose a hand high, with a blackened gem in hand.
He crushed it like brittle glass, and a howling wind came by. Coldness spread and almost as if a blackened hand appeared, it pulled him into a dark void, spreading below him. In a blink, with dust and dirt whirling, he vanished with a laugh.
Those around felt strange, slowly awakening out of their slumber, into a curious state of confusion - their leader vanished, their allegiance exposed.
The sick statue standing in the middle of the room, as a symbol of corruption and disdain.
The smith, the second in charge, turned and eyed the group, realizing their situation, dropping his hands and shoulders in realization that their ploy was up. His eyes darting, determining if battling and dying in glory outweighted surrender.
In the end he yelled out.
"We have be found out. There is no mercy left, only glory and pain. For the mistress!"
They advanced, drew weapons, unarmed but with nothing to lose.
If not broken this round, expect to break out of trance 1 round later.
Players turn!
Map: https://docs.google.com/drawin...SgNwFYUT7r1Wl4Q/edit