While I wasn't looking, Sandor had moved fast. With a quick sleight of hand, he cast an Ice Spike at me—smaller and far quicker than any I'd seen before.
If I hadn't drilled Lesser Ward through the night, I'd be dead right now. Casting it over and over again, each time imagining myself blocking fast incoming spells.
It had become a reflex. Just as the Ice Spike was about to pierce my heart, my hand shot up—casting Lesser Ward, blocking it in the nick of time.
Esbern and I both widened our eyes—surprised not just by the speed of the spell, but that I'd actually managed to block it.
If he was using the same logic I had during training, then by making his Ice Spikes smaller, he was likely conserving magicka—they were as small as butter knives! Also, it seemed to let him fire them faster.
It's likely that different spells can be cast with a variety of adjustments, like I had already done with my Flames spell.
"So... you're a spellcaster, not just a hunter," Sandor says with a grin, slowly sidestepping along the ridge as he looks down at us. "Maybe this won't be boring after all..."
He swings both his hands quickly, first one, then the other. Sending two more fast Spikes towards me, a small interval between the both of them.
I ward myself against both, shouting.
"Esbern, take cover!!"
Both of us dash away from the open area, seeking cover behind pillars of stone on opposite sides of the hall.
Sandor laughs jeeringly. "Haha... Come on guys, running away?... Don't disappoint me!"
"You've just gotten my—HOPES!"
*Crash!*
"UP!"
*Crash!*
He hurled two Ice Spikes—normal-sized this time—slamming them into the ground as close to me as he could.
"Don't tell me that you came all this way, just to hide?" Sandor says with a huff.
"You could surrender, you know! We've already beaten Haldric!" I shout. Maybe his resolve would crack if he knew his colleague—his 'brother,' as he liked to call his fellow students—was already down.
"Haldric?…" Sandor asks. "You killed that loser?" His tone makes it clear he couldn't care less.
"Loser?... Wasn't he your 'brother'?"
Sandor chuckles. "No... He was a weak, pathetic crybaby. He wasn't even part of the order, Mordyn only used him!"
I shout back. "That's not true, he had a letter on him. Mordyn called him 'the son he never had'!"
There's silence for a few seconds, before Sandor breaks out laughing, even into tears. "Molag Bal have mercy! That loser actually kept it! Hahaha!"
"Aaah, thank you... I needed that!" He says while wiping his tears away. "I handed him that letter, which is why I know it explicitly told him to burn it after being read. It seems it had sentimental value for him. It was only supposed to make him..."
Sandor stops mid sentence, seeming to have been close to say something he shouldn't.
"Supposed to...?" I ask him, trying to nudge him on.
Sandor tsks under his breath. "We're done talking."
He wasn't joking, he becomes silent. No doubt waiting for me to make a move again.
I've trained for this moment! I can't back down now! Casting a glance at Esbern, I give him a nod, signalling that I'm going in!
Charging out from behind the pillar, I keep my hands raised, ready for any incoming spells!
Sandor immediately starts casting his Ice Spikes in different sizes. There's many, and they come quickly, forcing me to keep the ward raised.
I make for the ramp leading up to him!
"Not bad, but how about this?!" Sandor says loudly, while seeming to charge something big—a frozen aura envelopes his hands.
He swings both his arms simultaneously—about ten small Ice spikes blasted forth from each hand.
I expanded the Lesser Ward as wide as I could, draining much of my magicka to shield my head and torso—but two of them still got through. One struck my left foot, the other slammed into my right thigh.
"Shit!" I yelped, collapsing to my knees.
I lowered the ward momentarily to quickly pull out the shards of ice. Blood came out from both wounds, but I didn't have time to close them with healing before Sandor's hand glowed icy blue again.
"I've got you, hunter!" He said proudly while raising a hand above his head. Ice starting to manifest above his palm, but this time, it turns out as big as a spear!
It starts spinning, and Sandor's grin widens.
"Farewell!" he shouts, releasing the spell.
I raise my hand and cast a ward.
The spear-like spike slams into it—overpowering it. Causing both spells to break with a sharp, shattering crack! Followed by a shockwave that staggers me.
Sandor stops moving, staring at me with a wide grin.
After a few seconds I feel the biting pain in my left hand.
A big fragment of the ice had pierced my hand completely! It was bloody and badly damaged, and growing numb from the cold.
Several smaller shards had also pierced my body all over. The wounds didn't go deep, but the sheer number of them added up to considerable damage.
"AAAAH!" Crying out in pain, I pull hard on the one that had pierced my hand—it was stuck!
"Oh no you don't!" Sandor says loudly, while charging up another spell.
This entire situation was growing bad quickly!Shouting, Esbern comes rushing out from behind cover. "Get up, Ragnar! I'll cover you!" Sprinting toward the ramp, he swiftly draws his greatsword. "You're dead, necromancer!"
Sandor chuckles again, and turns his attention to Esbern. "Getting lonely, huh?"
*Whoosh!*
An Ice Spike launches toward Esbern just as he begins his ascent. Anticipating its path, he halts mid-sprint, narrowly avoiding the projectile.
*Crash!*
The spike crashes into the wall just ahead of him—but as if he hadn't paused at all, Esbern is back in full sprint just a second later. His emerald eyes are filled with killing intent—locked onto his target.
A warrior of muscle dashing toward his enemy, with a huge blade in hand. Sandor's grin falters, panic now plainly visible on his face.
Wide eyed, he charges up another spell. In desperation he flings it as fast as he can toward his fierce opponent.
Missing him again! As he performs a quick sidestep.
Esbern reaches the plateau, and Sandor stumbles backwards, icy blue aura swirling around his hands.
"Why won't you die?!" he screams at the top of his lungs, then swings both arms forward—unleashing a wide wave of frozen shards.
Dodging was impossible—the spread was too broad. But Esbern's reaction saves his life. He throws up his left arm to shield his face. None of the shards strike his head, but the rest of his body is peppered with icy spikes.
"ESBEEERN!!" I shout.
Esbern's sprint falters into a staggered advance, yet he pushes on, lifting his blade high overhead.
Sandor shrinks away, his face drenched in sweat, mouth agape—terrified of the warrior closing in. He screams as he begins charging another spear-like Ice Spike.
"DIE!"
Esbern raises his blade, ready to strike—but Sandor fires first.
The icy spear pierces Esbern's right shoulder clean through—powerful enough to stop his advance!
With a deep groan, Esbern drops his Greatsword and collapses to his knees.
"ESBERN, NOOOO!"