Mag/Ophion/Ceres | Day Two | Hall of Attainment
Not much could be done to advance faster than they were. Barnard could have struck several creatures at once with one spell, Mag supposed, but the force of his magicks might well bury the group under an avalanche of rocks and debris, along with their felled enemies. Not a risk worth taking.
"Let's try to clear the way to the far end of the chamber," she said. "I'm curious to find out what in the name of Faram's so interesting about this place."
Mag holstered her shotgun. Better to stick to her spear—that didn't make the air shake with every attack, and she had a slight suspicion the historians might take offense if she drilled their precious relics full of holes.
It was not easy to break through the storm of redmaw trying to rip them apart from above, but after they killed a good number, the others seemed to realize the odds were against them and vanished into the dark again. Just waiting for a chance to strike again when the party's guard was down, perhaps.
Moving further into the chamber, Mag saw three large round objects whose silhouette she had glimpsed from the entrance and mistaken for stone idols or some such thing. Yet they were nothing of the sort. Some type of cockatrice, curled up into balls and showing no ill intent toward the group.