[GM Post]

The mercenaries did not do well at all, but that's probably expected with the adept mages out there dealing with magical infestation instead of behind them providing a modicum of security. Well, no matter. The shieldwall took the brunt of the blasts, and what remaining force that washed over it was absorbed by the remnant of the first instant barrier.

The next explosion, however, were more infuriating.

Another crisp crack marked the cracking of a different ring, the instant barrier protecting the false archmage from harm. Yet the same couldn't be said about the baron who stood closest to the explosion, and judging from the groans and screams neither were the arbalesters and the servants in the vicinity. Thankfully, there's no interruption to the creation of the tesseract as Asevor added the last line into its form.

[b][color=#778da9]"Koriloth's Purge Undead."[/color][/b]

A familiar pulse washed over the room, the three skeletons disintegrating like a pile of ash on contact. Not far away Bartholomew fared better, yet it seemed like the spell weakened him anyway as a good section of the living armor caved in under Ragnar's pressure. The berserker roared, burn spreading on his face as he headbutted the tempest back and receiving even more burn in the process. With a final snap he finally folded the undead in half, smashing the remnant to the floor as he roared victoriously.

The wave struck Solomon's shadowy form too, and while it likely wouldn't be nearly enough to put him down it's probably not a comfortable feeling either. On the other hand, Veronica seemingly were unaffected by the indiscriminate attack.

Things still seemed to be spiralling out of control. The undead were done, both the bones and the one Ragnar was pummeling, but now the mercenaries were taking severe beatings. And vines were growing all over the damn place, as if there's not enough issues to deal with. A glance at the northlander showed that he's still full of vigor, one less thing to worry about. Good enough. A big working was needed to stabilize things, in the meantime Ragnar can rampage all he wanted. And if he wanted it quick, well, his own developed formula was the fastest to complete.

[b][color=#778da9]"Enough of this. Asevor's Bulwark."[/color][/b]

A flick of the wrist. The forming shape was different, all curved and elegant as it [i]flowed [/i]rapidly into place like liquid metal in a mold instead of the ponderous artistic strokes of earlier workings. A chunk of his mana went into the spell, an opaque layer of crystalline growth spilling through the floor before turning sharply up and finally enveloped a good quarter of the room on Asevor's side. The arrow struck and exploded, yet the still-forming barrier actually shook less than the fort itself. A chair clattered on the surface before falling on the floor, the rest of it came right through toward a few screaming crossbowmen who immediately fell silent as it passed them like ghost. Verdant growth in the path were sliced through. One of the mercenaries inside experimentally tapped the protective shell, but it seemed to be a two-way blockade.

Just like that, the exchange of projectile came to a pause.

[b][color=#778da9]"You are lucky I'm here, I'll heal you lot. Shoot the elf when the wall comes down, would you kindly?"[/color][/b]

The mercenaries looked at each other as they exchanged quick command, the injured men brought closer while those in good shape reloaded and spread out in small group. Another shape started to form at the flick of the wrist, different and more compact compared to the previous spell yet it flowed just as smoothly as its predecessor.

[b][color=#778da9]"Asevor's Purification."[/color][/b]

On Ragnar's side, just as he dealt with the tempest he was ganged on four sides. Kaito went for the eye, but the northlander whipped his head sideways and instead of gouging the ocular organ it scored a shallow gash through his temple instead. Chounan came swinging with his blade, Veronica with a scythe she pulled out of nowhere, and Yvonne with the newly acquired billhook. The man flailed madly, unconcerned that he meet steel with flesh, injuries mounting yet still he managed to overpower the assailant with sheer unnatural savagery. If one were to observe, his severed leg were attached to the stump by what looked like a thick blot of blood - his steps were uneven and clumsy, yet it was undeniable that he's fully capable of standing up still.

Kaito, the first to strike, was the first to get out and wasn't caught up in the rampage. Chounan proved to have met a bad matchup, all the finesse meant nothing against a foe where his full-powered swing barely score a light gash. The blade clashed with a fist, Ragnar gaining another inconsequential line of wound while the ronin's weapon flew out of his grasp. Yvonne held strong to her weapon even as her palm cracked and bled from neutralizing the impact, scoring deeper yet almost equally inconsequential gashes on the meaty fist and arms. On the flip side, Veronica seemingly overperformed as she dodged every wild swing by the milimeter before her supposedly unwieldy weapon snaked through the flurry of blows and striking at the body.

For the first time in the battle Ragnar retreated, a moment of clarity surfaced through the red haze as he glared warily at the vampiress' weapon. Whatever that was, it's doing funny things with his blood. That's a bit too dangerous when there's already an array of worthy opponents sitting before him. He need to play smart... or dirty.

Thus Ragnar the Red reached down, grabbing the top half of Bartholomew by the arm as he swung the Tempest like a makeshift bludgeon.

Above, away from the cacophony of combat, Solomon was finally left alone. He had emerged in the center of the second floor, in what looked like the baron's private chamber. On the nearest table was a small, finely crafted wooden box inscribed with enough runes to make it hum with power even to uninitiated folks. Beside of that out-of-place object, the room itself seemed like a completely mundane residence of a noble and his wife.