Volkmarr stopped and turned, staring at the group across the distance. “How brash of you, knight, to simply toss your weapon away during a battle,” The coldness in his eyes robbed the words of any humour. A massive hand with blue skin and encircled with bands of gold slowly materialised around the spear, “Someone might try and take it from you.”
The spear’s metal shaft groaned as the hand started straining. Before the weapon was damaged, it vanished, reappearing in Deormund’s hand a second later. “I might say the same of a man who wanders into the unknown alone.”
The disembodied hand faded away, but Nora could definitely feel its presence now that she was aware of it. This one was as strong as the two spirits fighting downstairs. Volkmarr placed a gauntleted hand on his chest and bowed ever so slightly. “Indeed, but I am not alone, as I believe you saw in the room below.”
Nora stepped forward, keeping a firm hold on her staff to steady her nerves. “Alone or not, what do you hope to achieve here?”
Volkmarr turned his gaze to her, his right hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. “Forgive me for being rude to a lady, but I do not see any reason to answer that question.” With that, he turned away from them again, walking towards the crystal with sure strides. Bodvar and Deormund immediately went into a sprint, quickly covering the distance. Arrows flew ahead of them as Dah’Marra nocked and loosed in the blink of an eye. The projectiles failed to strike their target as they splintered or bounced off a rock-hard surface in mid-air. The blue-and-gold that had stopped Deormund’s spear appeared again, along with the rest of the spirit’s form. This one was humanoid, standing tall on two armoured legs. A helmet of some ocean-blue material sat on broad gilded shoulders as the spirit-form rested an object like a metallic urn on its right shoulder. It was easily over 2 meters wide and several more tall, towering over the two fighters racing towards it. The helmet creaked open as the spirit sounded a blood-curdling roar. The urn-like object shone with a harsh light as substantial magical energies coalesced inside it.
“Watch out!” Nora shouted after she had cast the protective magick, watching as the slim green shell held just long enough for Bodvar and Deormund to dive out of the way of the massive aetherial beam that stabbed out of the spirit-form’s weapon.
Wasting not a moment, Deormund sprinted past its massive legs, before being forced to dodge backwards as a hand almost as big as him reached out to grab him. A ball of flame slammed into its chest before it could react, but the spirit-form barely budged an inch under the attack.
The knight was forced to move even further back as the spirit swung the massive weapon it held in a single hand. It took a few strides, positioning itself between them and Volkmarr. A harsh blue light shone from within its helmeted head.
“I was born with the White Ones,” It planted the butt-end of its weapon on the stone in front of it, “I am Famfrit, the Darkening Cloud.”