The charging mushroom men hurtled toward Aaron like cannonballs.
Six mushroom men, six directions. They cut off every avenue of escape.
This fog!
The Child of Chaos narrowed his eyes. Ever since entering the area around Myth Drannor, he had sensed something wrong with the fog. Although his perception attribute could never compare to that of the cleric, a divine spellcaster who relied on perception as her primary attribute, the fact that he had only noticed the mushroom men when they were almost upon him was telling enough.
Naturally, Aaron would not be hit so easily. He had already reached Master-level strength.
He chanted an incantation.
Tzeentch's Fire!
A ring of multicolored flames formed around Aaron's body. As though alive, the flames spiraled around his torso three times, likewise blocking every possible direction from which the mushroom men could attack.
Yet their reaction to the flames was nothing like Aaron had expected. They ignored the fire, charging bodily into the blazing inferno. Only upon touching the multicolored flames did they instinctively recoil.
It was already too late. The multicolored flames spread across their bodies like a swarm of flesh-eating piranhas, engulfing all six mushroom men and burning them to ashes.
Silence returned, broken only by the enemies twitching faintly in the flames. Aaron carefully examined their charred corpses.
Their upper halves were mushrooms, their lower halves human. Numerous wounds covered their arms and bodies, with clusters of fungi growing from them. These mushroom men seemed to have lost their sight and sense of smell. All manner of capped fungi had replaced their heads, leaving them unable to see or smell.
All these mushroom men could rely on were their powerful bodies, strong arms, and fearless charges. Each weighed at least three hundred pounds. Anyone whose strength attribute was insufficient would