Nickolas released his first spell before his mind even grasped what he was looking at. The white cackling bolt leapt into existence in an instant, taking hold of the figure lying under the floor. Nickolas had held back on the power, revising the spell to put out less than a fifth of what he would use on a rampaging beast. Yet for a surprised Mage it seemed like over commitment.

After sustaining the magic for a full heartbeat Nickolas dismissed the spell, the last of the crackling energy causing the insensate Mage's body to twitch. The golden haired man's first instinct was to check the body, investigate if he had killed again.

But there were other shapes moving in the crawlspace and so he threw himself to the side instead.

When the counter blow came it wasn't in a shape Nickolas expected. Nothing was directed at him, instead the whole room grew hazy as the hostile Mage's struck.

His nose filled with an acidic scent, similar to Marious's grislier experiments, and his skin tingled painfully. Taking a risk Nickolas dropped his second lightning spell for a larger version of water creation. He lost the component that would let him control the water in favor of creating as much as feasible. The air dried considerably as the water dumped itself in buckets down the hatch. Choking coughs followed, and the air shuddered as the orcs lost their composure.

“Come out or I'll hit you all with the next bolt!” Nickolas shouted, stopping the water to bring another set of lightning runes to life above his hands. “And stop casting!”

Instead of the raised hands and meek surrender he hoped for the floorboards exploded.

Nickolas had barely recognized what was coming before Necun tackled him to the ground. Several more popping explosions followed. Splinters and nails filled the room, pieces of wood clattered against the walls. The debris rained down on the pair, Necun shielding the golden haired Mage from the worst of it, but he felt his lover jerk as shards of wood and metal pierced her flesh.

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Nickolas heard her breath hitch, and felt a trickle of warm blood soak through his robes, staining his left side.

Rage crystallized in the War Mage's mind.

He twisted, pushing Necun to the side as gently as he could manage. Three orc men were scrabbling up from the ruined floor. They were soaked with water, covered in dust and splinters.

His spell took the first in the chest, the soaked orc conducted the lightning perfectly, and flopped down without another sound, limbs flailing. The remaining two ducked behind cover, a chant on their lips, their hands moving in ritual patterns. Nickolas caught the next in the leg, the desk he had chosen too small for full cover.

The man screamed, clutching his sparking limb as the golden haired Mage kept the spell coursing. With his other hand he cast a general ward, the runes for a dozen different elements rotating above his knuckles as he waited to see what the better hidden orcish Mage would strike with.

Instead of the blow he expected Nickolas found himself in an inky blackness, all sensation cut off.

Nickolas waited.

Three heartbeats drummed in his chest.

He forced his eyes closed, then focused on changing his ward into the flash spell he had used against the assassins.

Three more heartbeats.

The spell released with all the magic he could spare, and the world bled back into focus. The illusionist was stumbling, clutching his eyes. Nickolas's lightning spell had terminated, he had lost control when the illusion took hold, but his target had already stopped moving.

So had Necun, she was bleeding beside him, dark blood pooling.

“Surrender or die.” Nickolas growled, magic thrumming in his chest.

The blinded man cursed with an accent Nickolas didn't recognize. It wasn't very intimidating given the illusionist was clutching his head and kneeling on the floor as the hissed out the words. He received a kick in the jaw as Nickolas passed to observed the men remaining in the crawlspace.

“Well?” he hissed, glaring down at the remaining men.

Their eyes were wide with fear, flicking between him and the first victim of Nickolas's wrath choking in pained breaths.

Behind the golden haired War Mage the pained gasps of the illusionist echoed.

One by one the Mage's in the crawlspace surrendered, raising their hands to cover their mouths in defeat.

Nickolas kept his spells ready to strike until help arrived.