Amal moved faster than most men likely thought possible, pivoting and twirling, sometimes even parallel to the ground in a vertical butterfly kick. At one point Amal leaped, rolling behind a gaggle of running goblins, the magical blast meant for him enveloping the gangly creatures. The pure force of chaos mutated some of them into masses of flesh whilst others were simply incinerated as if by one of the industrial furnaces of nuln. The light hid Amal in a brief instance, and he was already a dozen feet away, hanging by one of the spiked arches above the wall. With a subtle movement of his legs, he flipped up onto the arch, perched by the balls of his feet. 

"Given up yet?" The handsome thief asked. 

The sorcerer was truly getting annoyed. He had but barely given attention to the very clear divine favor given to Emmaline by one of the heathen gods of the desert. Once she was under his thralldom, he would interrogate her personally. As Amal dodged the next blast, Zar Tan Zhou realigned his next move, turning the wall Amal was about to springboard off of into some substance with the texture of melted wax. Amal landed on the floor, nearly colliding with the transmuted surface, face inches from it. 

The dwarf woman gave a guttural warcry and ran at the remaining goblins, holding a broken chair leg as she screamed to her ancestor gods. Her long braided hair swayed and bounced off her stout body as she charged, braining the first goblin and breaking the legs of another, wading into a group of them who were so surprised she had suddenly turned on them. Meanwhile, Amal continued to do his best to dodge, but he was slowing, exhausted and sweat from the exertion, getting closer and closer to the sorcerer, but it was to no avail. With a laugh, Zar Tan Zhou sent one last stream of chaos energy, arcing the blast to hit a desperately leaping Amal square in the chest to engulf his body in flashing, multicolored energy. Zar Tan Zhou laughed maniacally, praising tzeentch for his victory as the smoke rushed out from the blast zone. 

Amal, apparently unhurt, came with it. 

The last thing the sorcerer could comprehend was Amal's smile as the dagger slid up, through the bottom of his mouth into his tainted brain. Blood suddenly began seeping from his stricken lips, and Amal waved the ring he had on his finger before the dead magician's eyes as the once proud sorcerer fell onto the ground as a lifeless corpse. Emmaline looked at Amal with wide eyes, her left hand on her mouth even as her asp staff turned another running goblin to stone. 

Amal blinked and looked at her, showing her the ring. "You didn't forget I had magic immunity, right?" 

"But you kept dodging..." She said, lost.
 
"Well it's not fun if he doesn't [i]think[/i] he can win." The thief shrugged.