Part 54 (Patreon)

Without even getting up from the table, Nimue identified the source of the counterspell. “Well, I never thought I’d see an orc who knows counterspells. But I bet you don’t know the counterspell for THIS!” With that, she started a new incantation. A terrified Glasha had no idea what to do, so she rushed toward her, hoping to stop her before the spell was complete.

Meanwhile, Shelgrish continued to parry a vicious onslaught from Ingrid.

“My, you’re good…if only you were taller. Look, I don’t want to hurt you. Put the sword down, your warriors have been beaten already.”

“They aren’t MY warriors, and and I’ve just STARTED. When my mistress gets involved, you’ll see the futility of your cause.”

“Your mistress, hmmm?” Shelgrish looked at Nimue for a moment, and realized she was casting. But a moment was all Ingrid needed. Her blade came too close to Shelgrish for comfort; the barbarian barely managed to dodge it, and was off-balance. But Ingrid had also made a mistake. She had gotten in close, under the barbarian’s guard. Close enough to touch. With her free hand, Shelgrish attempted to steady herself by grabbing Ingrid’s shoulder. But the short woman could not support the tall, heavy barbarian, and the two of them tumbled into the mud.

Shelgrish was the first to reach for her sword, which had fallen from her hand, when she realized that she could not reach beyond the edge of the ring. She and Ingrid tumbled and wrestled for a while, until she clearly had the upper hand. Ingrid grabbed at her breasts, pulling her top loose. “Can’t you see that you’ve already lost? We’re trapped in here until my mistress lets down the barrier. She obviously won’t let us out if your people are winning. You can beat on us all you want, but you’re still trapped.”

Shelgrish was concerned. She looked up to see what Glasha was doing, as she was the only ally who wasn’t yet trapped in the ring. She saw her charging toward the table like her very life depended on it. She had to stop whatever that spell was! It would require breaking Nimue’s concentration, or causing her to stop the incantation. Nimue narrowed her eyes at the approaching half-orc, confident that her spell could not be interrupted. A ball of purple light was growing in her hand. Glasha knew that was a bad sign, so she ran as hard as she could in her life. Nimue kept chanting, and stared as if taunting her. But the half orc redoubled her efforts.