Sins of the Archmagus

When the carriage stopped rolling, Voidoth clambered out the door that was now a ceiling-hatch, staff first.

While his protective spells had kept him from any harm more significant than having his mask knocked astray, the ambush had laid waste to the carriage, the horses, the driver and the surrounding trees, which smoldered all around him.

The spell had struck without triggering any of Voidoth's clairvoyant runes of warding, which meant that it had been launched by an adept of significant power... or one familiar with his preparations. Neither was a comforting possibility.

He stood erect on the akimbo carriage to survey the landscape for threats. Lifting his staff he cast a spell to illuminate the smoky battleground with a stark blue-white light.

There, a hundred yards down the road, stood a figure he recognized, if only by the pale mask it wore... a mirror of his own.

"Aamon," he breathed.

"So sorry to startle you from your reverie," the other called back. "But how else could I get your attention... brother?"

Entered by: 0x9611…BE9A and preserved on chain (see transaction)