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He jumped up at the moment he noticed movement. Somebody had entered the room, and had got past his wards. Angry at being taken by surprise, he left his seated position and stood in the center of the room, looking and listening, but then was assaulted by a terrible screaching of millions of voices, vibrating from the walls and crashing into his ears. He then saw the numerous host of owls and visions of Cyril. Larry raised his hand to a vision of the wind maker and a blast of flame erupted, destroying the image, but that did not stop the war. His ears were now ringing in annoyance at the terrible sounds of the owls, and he was getting dizzy from chasing after images that appeared real, but turned out not to be. Raising both hands and screaming a spell that he could not hear himself even speak took out two more images, leaving nothing but tattered cloth. Fury was racing through his thoughts, as he called forth a shadow-sword and began to hack at the intruding images. One after another fell, but nothing was stopping the screaming agony of the voices and screeches. Larry called forth another shadow-blade and now dual wielded them as he spun around and through the images, taking them out as fast as possible. He then heard a thud and looked to the ground to see an arrow at his feet. He had been shot at, but then realized that some of his immunities had just been destroyed. It was a dispel magic arrow, and was not intended to kill him, but only to lengthen the game of torture. Sreaming in rage now, Larry began to hack at the air with renewed fury, killing image after image, hating the Wind-maker more and more after each dispelling. Yet, there were so many of them. He was exerting so much energy into this that he began to get lightheaded and fatigued. Still, he pressed on, fear now overriding him as he knew that one of these images was flesh and blood.
OOC>>>I hope that did your post justice.
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