[ Solas keeps an eye on the detective and his Summon, renewing their barriers as needed to guard them from the archers loosing arrows in their direction. The projectiles bounce harmlessly off their shields, and Solas takes time to pick them off, ice and lightning and fire dancing on his fingertips, blasting from his staff with precise swings.
It's like a dance, really, wielding and warping the Veil as if it were an extension of himself. He was much stronger than this, at one time, though his abilities are hardly anything to scoff at now. Between the combined efforts of the three of them, they've cut a swath through the Venatori encampment, leaving a few mages desperately casting to ward them off.
They need only to wait them out, and Solas sends a few lazy spells their way -- if only to keep up appearances that their attack is still on. When he senses their spells flagging -- indicative of a poor connection to the Fade, as he suspected -- he takes initiative. With carefully aimed blasts, he knocks the staves and tomes from their hands. He slams his staff's blade into the ground, and ice races like lightning toward the cultists, binding their feet and crawling up their bodies until they're bound by ice to their elbows.
Satisfied, he nods to Jacob, then to the three mages he's trapped; he keeps his staff poised, feeding the ice his magic to keep their captors bound. ]
In case you need to make an example. [ He says it by way of explanation for capturing three rather than one. ]
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It's like a dance, really, wielding and warping the Veil as if it were an extension of himself. He was much stronger than this, at one time, though his abilities are hardly anything to scoff at now. Between the combined efforts of the three of them, they've cut a swath through the Venatori encampment, leaving a few mages desperately casting to ward them off.
They need only to wait them out, and Solas sends a few lazy spells their way -- if only to keep up appearances that their attack is still on. When he senses their spells flagging -- indicative of a poor connection to the Fade, as he suspected -- he takes initiative. With carefully aimed blasts, he knocks the staves and tomes from their hands. He slams his staff's blade into the ground, and ice races like lightning toward the cultists, binding their feet and crawling up their bodies until they're bound by ice to their elbows.
Satisfied, he nods to Jacob, then to the three mages he's trapped; he keeps his staff poised, feeding the ice his magic to keep their captors bound. ]
In case you need to make an example. [ He says it by way of explanation for capturing three rather than one. ]