Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20170326174832/@comment-5543592-20170412231124

(Sorry I've been absent, had business to take care of)

Lambert stood by uncomfortably, not wanting to utilize his Thu'um. He was at a morally quandry. He couldn't break with his vows. To do so would be a challenge to the identity he had crafted for himself over the last few decades. Yet he couldn't allow some his comrades to possibly die. He was going to have to make a decision he'd been hoping to avoid.

The Greybeard sighed, then inhaled.

"Szeth..." He intoned expectantly. The Skaal looked over, his plain, hairless face expressionless despite the chaos around them. Lambert gave a nod.

Szeth reached his hand out to his side, as if he was holding something. He lifted his other hand, and aimed it at the machines. The Nord calmly stepped past the front line, right up to where Zak was dousing them with fire, and then flicked his fingers.

Magicka filled his palm, glowing a dark violet color, and then expelled. The same energy immediately coalesced around the machines, lifting them from the ground, and they began to drift rapidly backwards, over the edge of the ship. It was like gravity had suddenly changed directions for them-- they were falling sideways.