"The 'Cage of Velf'Sthram' is a magical implementation of Skrandonese design that is only taught to the highest members of their cult's order, presumably due to fact that an active eldritch construction of such magnitude would surely require an immense amount of mental focus to maintain. The cage is not unlike an upside blue mixing bowl in appearance, with its phosphorescent walls seeming to flow in constant motion as if constructed solidly out of moving liquid. Any contact with the walls of the barrier will produce a sensation that is something not unlike receiving a static-shock, but carried out many orders higher than the results that general foot scuffing could ever hope to produce. Despite the obvious military applications of a technique with such defensive prowess, it was seldomly seen used in any known confrontations with Skrande due to the fact their beliefs preclude the notion of intentionally bringing their clergy to an active battle fray."

- Excerpt from the Encyclopedia Corsinthia

Chapter 24: “Fury and Befuddlement”

There, upon the forest enshrouded path - that lead from the vendor laden city of Kyosem, all the way over to Corsinthia's capital - presently stood six different people separated into a trilogy of distinct groups. Standing most closely to the city of Dulsnik - where could be found the Grand Library, declared to contain the Arcanum of Jasmodeus - were the swordsmen Jysalef Soresh and his ward. The duo, of which was currently placed with the greatest proximity to the city that had recently come under siege from a Dragon, contained the two surviving assassins from the malevolent Skrandonese trio that had last been seen in the rundown town of Elpsiod. The final part of the triumvirate of groups standing upon the dirt roadway - currently standing betwixt the other two, almost nearly equidistant to be exact - held within its ranks the women Reoisce'Aihr and Latte.

A meal such as this - whose particular arrangement made for a healthy dose of shock and fear at the center, all nestled neatly within two buns of seething anger and contempt - was sure to have dangerously spicy results when ingested. In fact, the taste that belonged to the sandwich of the moment was so ill at ease with the stomach of Terus Kyreon that he immediately moved to unsheathe his sword and bolt forward; all of this before the Skrandonese assassins before him could even finish making declarations upon the matter of just how disgusting they found their present quarry to be. Immediately in response to Terus's anger fueled attempt to draw first blood, which had been driven on by the fact he had not yet forgotten their horrendous actions back in Elpsiod, the two foreigners prepared to rush forward wholeheartedly as well.

Jysalef, immediately upon noticing that his ward was moving to leap haphazardly in against opponents with far greater skill, reached quickly to reign in the eager youth; although, ultimately, it would quickly prove to be an altogether unnecessary gesture. Only mere fractions of a moment after both Terus - as well as the assassins that had been his ultimate goal - had started to move forward with murderous intent, all parties involved in the initiative to start the fight post haste screamed a surprised yelp as they stumbled backwards in a slight daze. Presently - separating the three distinct parties standing upon the forest walled path - was what appeared to be something not unlike an upside down clear blue mixing bowl, albeit it one with edges that rippled and undulated whilst they furthermore gave off their own source of light upon everything nearby.

Standing at quite precisely the epicenter of the suddenly appearing dome of light, which seemed to emanate a ringing like sound that was not unlike a tuning fork having been slammed harshly up against a rock, was the cyan-haired Skradonese priestess. Both of the foreign woman's arms were presently held erect and sharply straight out, at the end of each arm her open palm pointed outwards towards the sides of the upside-down blue dish that kept the three groups separated; furthermore still, upon her face was a look of both great focus and bewilderment. Reoisce'Aihr's confused gaze itself was, for the moment being, most whole heartedly locked upon the recently arrived cohort of Naun'tkch; whom carried upon his scalp hair of a cyan hue, very much the same as her own.

With a tone of confusion that perfectly complemented the current appearance of her face, the priestess blurted out in very much the same way one might had they just seen a pink elephant stroll by, "Lahkt, what is it that you think you are doing here?!"

First shaking free the disorientation that was the result of his having walked face first into the bluish area of denial barrier that had been erected by Reoisce'Aihr, the cyan-haired man - whom was apparently named Lahkt - responded back in a tone of fury and befuddlement, "Where in the name of Ilsq wouldst it be possible that the defiler might have been granted the knowledge of Vel… Aihr?! You ask of me what I think I am accomplishing here, that much should be self evident; it would instead be best served if I asked the same of you!"

"I," screamed back the blue haired Skrandonese priestess with a tone that was now far more irked than confused, "am here journeying to the capital of this land as part of the pilgrimage that the great goddess herself has set forth before me; I would never do naught but follow her wisdom to the letter as she dictates it! However, you are currently standing here before me in these lands with blades drawn in malice; this is in clear violation of the Empress's resolution, and I demand to know why!"

The former soldier, Jysalef Soresh, listened intently to the rather forcefully loud ongoing exchange taking place on the other side of the rippling barrier that stood before him; where as the swordsman's ward, Terus Kyreon, remained for the moment almost as out-of-sorts as he had been when first he slammed up against the unexpectedly erected magical wall. Although the initial declarations from Naun'tkch and his cohort had been - for the benefit of those they hoped to bring to an end - issued forth in well-dictioned Corsinthian, the dialogue of the moment was being carried out in the language of Skrande; after all, it was only natural for angrily flustered people to be wont to speak in their native tongue. Now while it most absolutely went without saying that the young Terus Kyreon had not a drop of knowledge within his head as to the workings of any languages other than his country's own, it had been all too necessary for his mentor to learn Skrandonese back when he had been in the war for various matters such as interrogation.

What interested Jysalef the most, in regards to the shouting match that was presently taking place before him, was the fact that both parties involved were referring to each other openly by their given names; and that, furthermore, neither of them seemed concerned at all with this. The truth of the matter was that, although Jysalef frequently ignored the rules of etiquette that surrounded Skrandonese nomenclature, he actually did know them and their proper implementation. Thusly, it could not help but to be of great personal interest to him when one of the assassins - that had been chasing him around since his stop in Elpsiod - was now currently being permitted to argue in the familiar with the foreign woman of whom he was loathe to admit had returned him from the brink of a recent dragon-induced demise.

Besides, although it would technically not be impossible for one to reach the other side of the glowing blue field by way of traversing its perimeter; it would have been a truly mad folly for one to approach a waiting opponent through woods like these where one was prevented - by means of the densely packed foliage - from striking a blow.