After so long in the dim, the day was blinding. Blinding and warm; dazzled and dazed, I could only squint; my companions fared only slightly better, and to our horror, we found ourselves face to face with our captor.

A dozen thieves battled with him.

With a battle cry that drowned the din, the tattooed warrior charged. In a mighty cleave, he swung at our foe; an upheld hand, and the axe shattered. There was nothing but chill in the effortless wave; he did not even bother to show his contempt.

Enraged by the sight of him; the leather mask and pale eyes, Imoen's reason fled. Unleashing a magical barrage that shook the street's very foundations, raw force pounded his defences; an orb shimmering gold surrounded him. This same sphere blocked the long daggers, deflected arrows and spells alike; nothing pierced our captor's shield. Nothing… until Imoen. Fuelled by our sire's divine essence, her wrath battered and blasted a hole she ripped open.

Distracted by the thieves he blew apart, he recoiled under her assault; with a grunt, he took it, the side of his body seared and directed a counter ward with furious gestures; his incantation send a shockwave that knocked all present to their feet, all but Imoen. Holding her ground, her gesture shattered the bricks behind him; his shield leaving him untouched.

Everywhere, choking dust lifted; blinding, blackened, scorched by the fire the Imoen traded. Her wild, eyes aglow; power crackled around her. This… my sister… an avatar of destruction. And our captor… a rock. Aside from the first shot she got in, she had not breeched his defences; ignoring her, he ripped apart the rest of the thieves, and then the air shimmered.

Cowled figures appeared, robed.

Somewhere amidst the carnage, the she-elf had tackled me to the ground, shielding me with her body; masonry fell. Bricks… arches, windowsills. The metal fencing that guarded the balconies was warped, fused, melted; we were trapped under an girder; choked, I began to see black.

The last thing I remember was the newcomers being blasted; one after the other, our captor ripped through their wards; no expression ever passed his gaze. Uselessly, they threw their spells against him; nothing got through. Imoen, he ignored, and time after time, she threw fire at him; the cloud of dust flared white, fused to glass. Glass she shattered; shards everywhere. She could not pierce the shield; three of the cowls tried to restrain her… two she turned to stone, the third engulfed in flame. More and more wizards appeared; their combined might overcame her… our captor spoke.

I could not hear him.