It could be amazing the trouble one little problem can cause. A simple miscasting of a spell and all of Lore was threatened to be destroyed. And who had cast said spell? None other than the Blue Mage himself. Kneeling on the sidelines of the battle, Warlic sighed and cradled his forehead. One simple word. That's all he'd done. Just read one simple word wrong from that ancient text and he'd called down the wrath of the planes of darkness. At least it looked like Artix and the heroes were having fun.

Speaking of which, the Paladin plopped down beside him and grabbed a health potion. "It's really heating up out there!" He grinned before taking a swig.

Warlic looked up, taking in his friend's dented (and in some places torn) armor and a few gashes that had started healing from the potion. "How low is your health?"

"Was at fifteen when I took cover; but don't worry. I've had worse."

The Mage shook his head, "I'm so sorry, Artix. This is all my fault. I've screwed things up again."

"Hey!" Artix grabbed Warlic by the shoulders and forced him to look at him after corking the potion. "You can't blame yourself for everything!" He gave him a little shake. "We all screw up sometimes! You think I haven't? We all make mistakes because no one is perfect! You need to start remembering that, Warlic!"

The Mage was about to object, but Artix interrupted him again. "Shut up! I know you, okay? If you screw up then you do everything in your power to fix it! You aren't a bad person! So stop throwing a giant pity party and help us kick some dark hind tail!"

"You realize that's a little harder than it sounds, right?"

"Don't worry." Artix grinned. "I've got your back. I can take up defense long enough for your mana cool down. Now you coming or not?" He stood and offered a hand down to him. After a brief moment of hesitation, Warlic took it with a firm nod.

"Alright. Let's do this!"

With both gripping their weapons, Warlic his staff and Artix his long blade, they charged the field.

"Battle on!"