<<Heart of Fear: Fourth Age of Mankind>>
The mage watched in horror as another priest vanished in a purple haze of negative energy. His eyes darted around the arena, desperately searching for anyone still standing.
Two figures emerged from the smoke, coughing violently before straightening up. Kara cupped her hands to her face, yelling across the arena. “We can’t keep this up! We’ve got to get out of here!”
“And how do you suppose we do that?!” Lightmoro hurled a ball of thunder at the massive creature thrashing about within the purple smoke.
“Oz, can you get us a portal out of here?!”
The mage reached into his reagent pouch, removing a handful of yellow powder. “Hold on, I’ll—!”
A massive black claw burst forth from the haze, swiping at the small group. Ozmar instinctively ducked, diving forward to avoid the blow. Kara and Lightmoro did the same, narrowly avoiding the fatal swipe. Another loud roar pierced the arena’s atmosphere, triggering the opening of several portals. Their hopes sank as several more dark creatures emerged, charging at them at top speed.
Ocrist joined the trio, sporting a fresh trio of scars on his once-proud bulwark. “Oz! Get that portal open! We’ll keep them back.”
The remaining guild members charged, each one engaging a creature while Ozmar muttered the teleportation spell as fast as his lips would allow him. Grinding the powder in his palm, he slowly let the particles drift out from between his fingers, straining as some of his strength left with it.
“Agh!”
Lightmoro stumbled backwards, knocked off-balance by the abomination he was fighting. Ocrist charged with a feral roar, bowling the creature over with a powerful thrust from his battered shield, taking a low crouch in front of Lightmoro. “Oz! Hurry!”
The mage continued to chant with increasing haste, struggling not to stutter as he spoke rapidly. A mass-teleport incantation was lengthy, and he wasn’t exactly well-practiced, as he had never attempted it before. All he needed to do was open the portal, and…
“Oz! Look out!”
Ozmar’s head whipped sideways as a tentacle cracked across his left cheekbone. Gasping in shock, he brought his left arm to his face, his right hand drifting to the hilt of his longsword. His left hand pulled away from his cheek, slicked with blood. Blinking rapidly, he faced his attacker: a grotesque abomination with only a gaping maw and tentacles for appendages. Before he could draw his sword, a fierce cold chilled the air around the two, sending a brief chill down Ozmar’s spine. A whiteness crawled across the creature's form, eventually completely encasing it, freezing it in place. The mage sighed, turning to the Draenai responsible.
“I owe you one, Lighto!”
“Just get that portal open and we’ll call it even!”
Ozmar’s spirits were rekindled as a small, bright-blue dot sprang into view. It slowly grew, its middle becoming a deeper, royal blue as its border expanded.
“Almost got it! Just a bit longer…”
“Keep it up! We’ve almost—Bwargh!”
Lightmoro took a few steps backward, coughing violently. Drops of red accumulated at his feet as a horrible black spike emerged through his back, which oozed a fearful aura. It retreated, leaving a gaping hole in its absence. The druid collapsed, unmoving.
“By the Gods—Lighto!”
“Oz! Don’t stop!”
Fighting through tears and fueled by emotion, the mage poured his energy into ripping the portal open, carelessly tearing into the realm of space and time. No longer was his goal to get a portal which would safely deposit them back in a main city—it was now a battle for what little time was left, and to get them anywhere except for here. The portal widened at an excruciatingly slow pace, infuriating the caster further.
“Another swipe! Get down!”
All three dove for the ground simultaneously, their cloaks whipping about in the tail-wind of the sweep. Ozmar glanced up just in time to see five creatures closing in on them, pulling themselves along with their misshapen limbs.
“Don't worry about it, Oz! Keep it up!” Ocrist roared, struggling to his feet.
Ozmar followed, his attention turning back to re-widening the portal. His desperation growing unbearably intense, the mage began again, channeling his energy into the dimension-hole.
Slowly, but surely, the blue dot grew back into an apple-sized opening, bringing a pained grin to Ozmar’s face. “Just a bit more…!”
The sounds of battle behind Ozmar became uncomfortably close as the horrid screeching of Ocrist’s shield being shorn in two pierced the air, causing the mage to cringe involuntarily. He risked a glance behind him, only to see Kara stumbling towards him. Instinctively, he reached out for her, stopping her by the shoulders. “H-hey! Careful!” he began.
His eyes slowly grew when she looked up to him, her lips bloodied and trembling. “O-O… Oz…mar…” She slowly sank out of his grip, which he moved to underneath her arms.
“K-Kara…?”
He was knocked back by a young warrior’s backside as Ocrist flew backwards, painfully wrenching Ozmar’s shoulder to the left as he fell.
The mage rolled over, his eyes locked onto Kara’s unmoving figure.
“Light help us…”
“Oz…”
A gloved hand rested heavily on the mage’s shoulder, gripping tightly. Ozmar turned to the hand’s owner, his eyes full of fear.
“Ocrist…?”
“Oz, you’ve… You’ve got…”
The gloved hand fell from his shoulder.
Around the mage, time slowed. Ozmar slowly stood, glancing around him. Giving his enemies a sidelong glance, he looked back at his friends, still lying where they had fallen. Slowly rolling his head back, he loosed a single roar of despair, wincing as he felt his enemies draw power from it. He threw his arms outward, arcane energy overflowing from his fingertips. He widened his stance, preparing to flash freeze himself in a final attempt to survive the onslaught, inadvertently kicking his pouch of arcane dust which had fallen from his belt. In a brilliant white flash, Ozmar reappeared, now-frozen in a block of ice. The powder particles now encased within the icy prison glowed fiercely, blinding the creatures temporarily. When the light vanished, Ozmar, the Light of Dawn, had disappeared.