“Hold still my friends,” Oramiir commanded. “This will help aid us in our approach, but it will only be for a short time. Once I am done, we must move with haste.”
The sorcerer lifted his hands into the air, one after the other, moving each away from his body as if pushing against some unseen force. His voice rumbled as his lips formed the beginnings of yet another spell. As his companions watched on, he slowly walked around first the hobbit and then the elf. As he circles each, he makes plucking motions at various points of their bodies before turning and pushing his hands away.
Joeshan giggled when it was his turn, watching as his companion continued with his strange magical ritual and found himself in for the shock of his life. As the first sound passed over his lips, Oramiir reached up and quickly plucked near his mouth, snatching the sound before it finished passing his lips and deftly tossed it away.
Within a few short minutes, the spell was complete. Oramiir had silenced the joints of Elladuer’s armor. He had ensured that their feet would not alert their presence to the ancient wyrm before them. And, most importantly, he had silenced the endless prattle of their smallest companion, who didn’t seem to have the attention span to practice certain skills while amongst friends. Least of all, those pertaining to his profession.
Elladuer chuckled at the expression that had claimed Joeshan’s cherub-like features. The spell was one that he was familiar with, having traveled with the sorcerer on several other adventures, and it in fact had only flung the sound several meters behind them. While they could theoretically enter the dragon’s lair with the element of surprise on their side, anything behind them would immediately know of their presence.
They now had several spells protecting them. The dome which covered each of them, and, when they were together, offered stronger protection versus the dragon’s fiery breath. The contingency that caused any sound made by their noisiest parts to emanate from another location. And, of course, the various items that each of them carried.
There was a very good chance that they might be able to pull this off.
Oramiir waved his hands dramatically to ensure that he had each of their attention. Once they were looking, he flashed his fingers at them twice to remind them of how much time they had before the spell’s affects wore off. While Elladuer only nodded, Joeshan noticeably gulped and a bead of sweat rolled down his left cheek.
The elfin warrior reached down, placed a comforting hand on the smaller man’s shoulder, squeezed and then patted it twice as he offered him what little assurance he could. The latter nodded and when he noticed the impatient look on the sorcerer’s face, he leaned forward and darted into the darkness ahead.
Oramiir, as always, retreated to the shadows behind the group as Elladuer extinguished the torch into a small pool of water beneath a nearby stalagtite. Only the soft glow of his armor foretold their approach, or, so they thought.
They had thought of nearly everything in their preparations, but little did they know the difference that the smallest detail could make.