Ar'Kendrithyst

Erick channeled mana through [Plasma Cutter], then through Mana Altering for Fire, then through [Conjure Weapon], then through [Telekinesis]. [Plasma Cutter] was a combination of all of those spells, but picking out the ‘Plasma’ from the rest was a difficult task, not unlike isolating a background rhythm from a song, that was also repeated in the main chorus, and also a part of the lyrics. It was actually too much for him, on his own. So he summoned help, dismissing some of the superfluous Ophiel from Candlepoint and resummoning them to his side.

Ophiel’s help was immeasurable. Once they got going, Erick was sure he couldn’t have done this without them.

The four part song of [Plasma Cutter] came apart under Ophiel’s perfect pitch, each piece of the spell vibrating the air around each Ophiel. Erick discarded the sounds that did not fit ‘Plasma’. Then he moved on to the next part of picking apart Plasma.

With two Ophiel singing before him, one in chorus with itself and Mana Altering for Fire, while the other sang of something purer, both less percussive destructive and higher energy, Erick was sure the second sound was pure ‘Plasma’.

Ah, this was magic. It was nice.

Erick folded the sounds of Plasma into [Force Bolt] and [Force Wave], gifting parts to each Ophiel around him, guiding the VCVD sounds in there as well, like adding a reverb or an echo chamber to the magic; something to pulse the power high, then even higher, but to keep it all contained to a small Bolt, that would then release in a wave, in the target. Agile and easy going, yet containing as much energy as Erick wanted to put into the working. Maybe even enough energy to turn anything it touched to Plasma.

Ophiels’ songs rose to a crescendo, as each feathered [Familiar] caught the harmony all at once, and the idea crystallized.

Erick didn’t even point. The spell took hold in the air between him and his Ophiel. It was a speck of white that flowed warmth into the breeze, as it lazily, rapidly, curved through the air like a cart at the top of a rollercoaster, dropping toward its stone pillar target, almost happily, leaving a rush of wind in its wake. It missed the target, but curved, almost impossibly, spinning around the pillar once before it was inexorably drawn down to strike.

It struck.

The stone pillar was a small one. Only five meters tall by two meters wide, and only a football field away. [Force Bolt]s would normally do nothing to anything of that size. [Force Wave] was a lot better at affecting a target of that size, but this spell had erred more to Bolt, than to Wave.

The bolt of white plasma splashed across the surface of the pillar, causing a minor explosion as a half meter section of stone blasted from the whole, sending chunks of rock to the sand below.

A blue box appeared.