Merri & Bram: DREADGUARD
The fire came roaring back at them—the men’s eyes widened, startled, and they went leaping in their own separate directions to dodge the blast. Merri’s magic caught on armour and robes, singing and burning. Bram yelped in pain but beat out the rest of the flames, his arm now aching.
“Looks like it has Reflect,” he grumbled, rising back to his feet. (Oh, how he wished for a task force now—perhaps the fighters should take a cue from Toku and his group.) “That complicates matters.”
He looked at Merri, striving to keep out of the Dreadguard’s range as it snarled at them and approached. “Synergy? White magic? Time magic?” he asked quickly. His coworker had a shallow but broad covering across the various disciplines—Bram dearly hoped it would come in handy now, even as he stepped forward to clash halberd with claw, the impact jostling against his burned arm.
He wasn’t able to dodge all of its swinging blows, however; the Dreadguard knocked him down, his bones rattling, blood filling in his mouth, but Bram climbed up again. Always up, stubbornly.