At first Thulos thought the wizard spoke of him, but then noticed the hateful glance thrown at the smaller of the two brothers. He made a note of it, then looked to the two women, magic dangling from their fingertips. One was an elf, certainly beautiful, with long auburn hair, walnut eyes, a flowing green dress. The other appeared a twin of Tessanna, the second image of the goddess he had seen within moments of setting foot upon the world. This one had a healthy glow about her skin, and she wore a dress similar to the elf’s.

“In everything, I see Celestia's hand,” Thulos said to them. “Will she herself not come and face me?”

“You'll have to settle for us,” the wizard said, tipping his hat. “My name's Tarlak. Meet my Eschaton.”

As one they unleashed a barrage of spells, a swirling mix of fire and sheer magical power. Thulos batted the spells aside with his sword, knowing its enchantments, enhanced by the strongest spellcrafters of various worlds, could protect and endure. Harruq rushed up the steps, weapons ready. Thulos saw him between the powerful light of the spells, stepped to one side, and slammed his sword down in greeting. Their blades connected, and once more the mortal flew back.

He gave them no reprieve. Brushing aside their darts of ice and flame like they were wasps, he charged. His shoulder slammed the man named Tarlak in the face, plowing him several feet backward. With his sword he lashed out at the one who mirrored the goddess. It connected, but it did not cut skin, the woman somehow protected by strong magic. The force of the blow continued, however, and she cried out in pain as she rolled down the steps, several of her ribs most likely broken.

The elf slammed her hands together, trying a different tactic to defeat him. He felt the ground rumble beneath his feet, then crack and sink. She was trying to destroy his footing, as if the others could take advantage. Thulos shifted his feet, stepped twice, and backhanded her.