LYRE
Thom's barely able to walk, stumbling every few steps, even with his hand in mine. His eyes have long ago glazed over.
His arcana's a bare whisper of existence at this point. When Aaron returns, I'll have to send the wizard back for real rest. One little ward was all it took to finish wiping him out, of course only an hour after the Beta had left.
Owen's off scouting ahead, since he still has the ability to defend himself if necessary. Plausibility hasn't blocked him yet, and he's essentially our last bastion of defense if anything arcana-capable comes our way.
Our emergency escape, if you will.
The effect of blood magic in this space is overwhelming the further we go, saturating the arcana in its taint. One would think such a level of corruption would be mirrored above ground, the earth incapable of nurturing the grass and trees, but it's the opposite: blood magic, nauseating or not, is a source of energy.
