Lord of Spells from Faerûn

At the entrance to the village of Qianshuitan, a group of lizardmen were fighting with the people in the village.

There are at least two to three hundred lizardmen. These are not free creatures like the goblins. The lizardmen have scales that are as defensive as light armor and sharp claws. Most importantly, the elite lizardmen can also Riding a lizard beast as a mount.

The villagers of Shoalsuitan relied on defense facilities to barely keep the village from being captured, but based on the situation on the field, it seemed that this was only a matter of time.

"Fire the arrow!"

On the stone wall, a one-eyed man holding a sword and an eyepatch shouted loudly. He was Baron Baron of Shallow Water Beach.

The archers of the security team picked up their bows and shot arrows into the distance, but the sparse firepower only brought sparse arrow nets. Occasionally, only one or two unlucky ones were shot, and the rest of the lizardmen were riding lizard beasts to quickly move towards them. Everyone on the stone wall rushed over.

Seeing that these lizardmen were about to charge forward, Baron Baron drew his sword and gave instructions.

"Prepare for contact! Lancers come out!"

Members of the security team armed with standard spears walked to the outside of the stone wall, ready to poke down the lizard men who tried to climb.

At this moment, many fighting forces in the tavern arrived on the battlefield. Baron Baron was overjoyed when he saw it.

"Let go of the city gate!"

Baron Baron is preparing to go out of the city to fight. With new reinforcements, the pressure on the shallow water beach is instantly relieved. Fighting out of the city is a better choice, which can prevent the powerless villagers in the city from being harmed.

Jerome picked up the emblem, prayed silently, shouted loudly, raised his sword and led everyone to rush outside the city to stand with the lizard people.

Imrik exerted Sky Mastery on himself, flew to the city wall, and observed the performance of the Dragonlance Adventure Group.

Jerome is worthy of being a dragon-born paladin. His physical fitness is extremely strong, probably only a little worse than that of Copper Furnace. Even the lizardmen, who are stronger than ordinary people, cannot withstand a single enemy under his hands.

The warrior Zach and the rogue Domira were slightly inferior, but they still crushed these lizardmen who generally only had the strength of first-level professionals, especially Domira. She was obviously more inclined to develop as an assassin than a thief, and ghostly figures shuttled between them. In the battlefield, patiently waiting for the opportunity to harvest lives one by one.

Imrik did not take action. His powerful perception attribute allowed him to smell a different atmosphere, as if there was an extremely foul smell of evil coming from afar.

He summoned the warrior leader of the caravan and ordered him to go to the backyard of the tavern to bring the copper stove. Imrik had a hunch that these lizardmen would not be all enemies.

In the distance, a lizard man wearing heavy armor whispered to a man with an evil temperament beside him: "Your Excellency Kallis, it's your turn to take action."

The evil man nodded and walked forward, while constantly chanting incantations. The difference was that his incantations were all a combination of chaotic and meaningless words, as if he was praying like some kind of crazy creature.

"Stinky Cloud Technique!"

Third-ring spell - Stinky Cloud Technique.

As the spell ended, a burst of yellow-green gas quickly spread across the battlefield. The casting location of the Stinky Cloud Technique was specially chosen by the evil man to be close to the city wall, and most of it was covered by shallow water. of combat power.

The smelly gas diffused into the nostrils, and those who smelled it couldn't bear it and bent down and retched. In areas where it was too severe, some people even fainted from the smell of this vicious gas!

The evil man's spellcasting caught Imric's attention on the stone wall.

"This evil ability... so wild, Warlock?" Imrik muttered to himself speculatively.

Warlocks are spellcasters who serve powerful and evil divine powers and ancient evil things, and are called their masters. They generally have twisted personalities and advocate chaos.

The essence of warlocks is similar to that of priests, but due to the difference in the source of spellcasting, the power that warlocks obtain from their overlords is much worse than that of priests.

To put it simply, a warlock has very few spell slots every day. A level 6 warlock only has four spell slots per day, regardless of level. That means no matter what spells he casts, even the most basic ones. Each spell consumes one spell slot.

It can be said that if you only look at these spell slots, the Warlock is undoubtedly an extremely disabled spellcaster profession.

However, since the masters of warlocks generally belong to other visitors from distant universes outside of Faerûn, they have the ability to use wild magic without going through the magic network.

They can use the magic flames transformed from the wild magic power in their bodies - also known as magic energy explosions - unlimited times a day.

The magic flame is energy transmitted directly from the source of the sect master. It is endless. As the level of the magician increases, the magic flame will also increase its damage.

But the magic flame also has its flaws. First, it cannot be separated from the body too far. Once it is too far away from the magician, it will be assimilated into harmless wild magic by the magic network. Therefore, the magician often has to engage in dangerous close combat.

The second is that the magic flame is a single-target attack, and its growth rate is not very high. Therefore, compared with high-level spells, its attack power is much worse.

But no matter what, the warlock relies on the magic flame and is undoubtedly the strongest early spell caster profession.

The black-robed mage on the stone wall carefully observed the warlock in the distance. The boiling black flames on his hands clearly declared his identity.

Kallis continued to recite incantations, foul language kept spewing out of his mouth, evil energy penetrated from his body, a bunch of gorgeous black wings grew from his back, and every incitement was accompanied by a stench. Bad wind.

Three Rings of Evil - Wings of Darkness.

Relying on this spell, Kalis flew towards the battlefield. He stayed on top of a member of the security team who was stunned by the smelly cloud spell, and prayed loudly in the name of his evil master, and a burst of black flames rose from his hands.

"Magic explosion!" The black flames rushed towards the member of the security team and instantly ignited his body. The faint black flames wrapped around it like a poisonous snake. The unconscious guard was awakened by the severe pain and wailed miserably in the fire. This kind of The evil black flames will cause the subject extra great pain.

Kallis looked at the tortured humans at his feet with enjoyment. In his opinion, the highest art was to make living intelligent animals feel extreme pain and watch their lives pass away bit by bit.

Jerome watched in pain as Callis tortured to his heart's content. His kind nature made him unable to bear such evil slaughtering innocent people in front of him.

"No! Evil spellcaster, you will pay for this!"

Jerome forced himself to stand up. The continuous vomiting left him with almost no physical strength, but he still insisted on picking up his long sword and looked at the opponent while breathing heavily.

Just when he was about to rush towards the opponent desperately, even if he sacrificed his own life, he wanted to kill the evil one.

"Sandstorm."

An indifferent voice came from a distance.