[IRP] Return to the Dread Isle

[Alusq]

As soon as Renata had witnessed one of the strangers speaking words other than the same old spiel about a Nergal, the man had spoken a few words to Lennox and disappeared. She knew that warping magic existed, of course— though it was also used by heathens, many servants of the Church still held the spell in high regard for its obvious utility. Something about the man in robes walking out of the fog only to nonchalantly warp away made Renata's blood boil in anger, but she hadn't the time to think about that or the fact that Lennox apparently knew the man by name.

Renata stepped to the side as a rust-caked battleaxe soared her way and rushed the apparition that had thrown it, going for a slash at its neck. Her sword connected, but the morph hardly seemed fazed as cold, black shadow erupted from its wound. A creature of darkness, then. It was time for Renata to see if her tome still worked. She managed to kick the morph away as it tried to grab her, falling to the ground and rolling to where her tome was on the ground by the fire. Scrambling to her feet, Renata was already halfway through the incantation by the time she'd assumed a battle stance, tome in right hand and sword in left. The morph reeled and snarled as it was beset by—

A rather large spark.

Renata had known she'd be rusty, but not that rusty. She hadn't seemed to have done all that much damage, but the morph had had an exaggerated reaction— did these creatures feel pain? What she had done, however, was attract the attention of a few other ones; all she could do now was back up closer to her comrades and the fire, aware that she'd been lucky with her first foe and would do better to fight the others with extreme caution, as the morphs' words continued to echo: "I await you at the Dragon's Gate."