Episode 66

Collective Action descend once more into the bowels beneath the temple, this time treading with greater care. The alarmed step is avoided, the lock picked with steady hands, and the familiar, oppressive air of the undercroft greets them. Yet there is no iron sentinel waiting to bar their way. Instead, they move in silence, watching as the two winged elves are discovered again—slumped, dazed, barely conscious, as though suspended between life and death.   Further ahead, a sickly purple glow bleeds into the chamber where Maximillion works. His back is turned, shoulders hunched in concentration as he mixes shimmering blue liquid with the noxious violet of Quintessence. The room hums with tension.   Celine and Meepo slip forward, intent on stripping the Angelkin of his enchanted ring—the very trinket that had made him so dangerous before. But fate has sharper teeth tonight. Meepo’s steps falter, his hand misses its mark, and Maximillion’s gaze snaps to them. His voice trembles with warning, telling them to leave before it is too late. But when the rest of Collective Action emerge from the shadows, the fragile thread of control snaps.   Maximillion’s shout rips through the chamber.   And in that instant, Marcellus arrives.   The wizard appears in a shimmer of cruel light, long white hair cascading around a face twisted with amusement and malice. His presence alone shifts the balance of the room. The sewer door slams shut behind them, sealed by Magic. The trap is sprung.   The battle that follows is chaos incarnate. Marcellus wields his Magic like a conductor of doom, raising walls of force that splinter the party apart, isolating them into desperate skirmishes. Maximillion calls out Meepo’s accursed trigger word, once more twisting the Kobold’s will against his own companions.   Blair’s scythe cuts deep into the wizard, finding purchase where others cannot, but Marcellus is unshaken. With a snap of his fingers, Blair is ripped from the fight, imprisoned in a shimmering Force Cage. Their voice echoes futilely from within as the others struggle to survive. The new barrier also blocks Celine from re-entering the frey, despite her best efforts to break through.   The numbers dwindle. Roan and Barnabus stand against the storm, hurling back spell for spell, the power of faith and nature against the force of the arcane, but the wizard’s magic is relentless. Fire crashes down, lightning arcs across the chamber. Both fall to the ground in ruin, Meepo collapsing beside them in the crossfire.   Now only Groban remains free. Bloodied and desperate, he conjures escape, his Magic ripping him from the fight. Celine bolts for the exit above, but Marcellus pays them no heed. With cold detachment, he raises a hand and releases the simplest of spells—Magic missiles that cut through the still air and strike true. Roan and Barnabus breathe no more.   Silence falls, save for the faint hum of the Force Cage.   Blair is left alone, a prisoner in light. They can only watch as Marcellus approaches, the corpses of their friends cooling on the stone floor. His smile is cold, unhurried, confident.   “You will be freed,” he says softly, his tone almost kind. “If you play nice. A family reunion awaits.”   The wizard’s promise lingers, bitter as ash. And in the darkness of the undercroft, Collective Action lies broken— at least two heroes fallen, another's fate unknown, and one held captive in the clutches of an enemy who has only just begun to reveal his designs.