[NPC Post]

Asevor was not having a good morning.

At first it seemed that everything went as smoothly as it could. The adept identified the magical working and had the muscles simply dig them out, the makeshift arrangement relying on being unnoticed to work. The undead druid that set it up must've gotten words about the trap at Pesti and was forced to trigger the growth early, thus leading to the premature notice. It didn't take long to completely remove the druidic influence, and not a second too soon - sunlight beamed from eastern horizon, marking the dawn of a new day, and their enemies seemed to be completely gone.

It was about fifteen minutes later that Asevor received the report of a still-growing wall of bramble the size of warehouse, poised to take over the village's southern gate.

And five minutes after that before another growth was found on the road a bit further south.

[b][color=#778da9]"No. Vast as my repertoire could be, there is nothing I have to remove the blasted brambles. Unless you dont mind to risk burning half the village, or blighting the land around it for years to come?"[/color][/b]

[i]"Well, if you put it like that..."[/i]

[b][color=#778da9]"I have sent an adept to break the magical influence so that it stops growing. Beyond that, I'm afraid it'll need honest labor to slowly chip away at the hedge. If you have to pay the peasants to do so, then [i]so be it[/i]. Am I understood?"[/color][/b]

[i]"...yes, archmage. I'll have it arranged."[/i]

That's one issue done. Now, what would the enemies do next? Attacking the small squad sent to clear the druidic formation was a likely one, they'll be too far out for him to rescue. But that's only a small portion of their fighting power, even if the loss of a mage would hurt a bit. Really, worst come to worst he'll just lock down the fort. Just a few more days and everything will solve itself, then his part was done and he get to wash his hands and return home.

[b][color=#778da9]"What's your next step, young Antigone? After all this time... I'm looking forward for our dance."[/color][/b]

Asevor's thoughts was rudely interrupted by the door of the hall slamming open with more force than strictly necessary, the fort itself shook slightly as the heavy hardwood impacted its wall. In strode a topless, heavily muscular, and gargantuan specimen of a man with blood-red tribal warpaint forming (admittedly) rather pleasant pattern all over his visible skin. The archmage had to suppress a sigh, already feeling the headache building in the back of his head.

[b][color=ed1c24]"Asevor! Where are the enemies? I've gotten all fired up for nothing!"[/color][/b]

[b][color=#778da9]"Ragnar, please, you are scaring the servants. It's not guaranteed yet, but if they're showing up it should be today or tomorrow so keep yourself sharp."[/color][/b]

[b][color=ed1c24]"Who do you think I am?! Ragnar is never dull!"[/color][/b]

Asevor took a deep breath and inwardly counted to three as the northlander flexed and posed. This was looking to be a long morning already...