The immediate response of [i]"No,"[/i] was what the man uttered, gesturing changing slightly to alter the spell of which he had been preparing, [i]"But I know now nothing is as it seems."[/i]

In spite of his flesh wound, the man continued the spell, having assessed the situation once more for what it really seemed; the phantasms were no idle thing, frail, but only at this hour of light and against readied foes. The addition of a young lady of the bow no less changed the plan of approach some, but it was a welcome change - no normal man could so casually shrug off the deep end as this one did, not without a darker force at work... magical at the very least.

His spell prepared and only delayed in brief, the common man, with his ragged brown cloth tinged crimson, splayed his fingers forth toward the nightmarish smile of the drow-elf; a magic determined to be no idle threat to anyone bearing metal. A dim orange glow of rising heat began radiating from the chain mail and sword itself, of which furthered to slowly rise in intensity - threatening becoming searing and white hot in moments.

The leopard, having been banished to ether once more, faded away like this mist it was before, leaving the orc and Man of the Ways clear line to the enemy. It was in this time the man prepared but another spell - one much more defensive.

Hands taking on a faint golden aura, they gestured more in rolling, turning motions that were warding the body.

[@Shade]