"Pass."

"Wasn't asking you."

Theodora's clothes are all homemade, and feature pockets in a profusion at which a rogue would blush. The bandages pocket bulges once again!

The scarecrow wears abortive cast-offs, clothing that Theodora made but didn't see fit to give or sell. Goofy-looking, but with a bigger wardrobe than most of the town's citizens. She's always thrilled to see them constructively ruined for Masha's training.

Masha leads the way!

She does still start with cantrips, though the goal is full spells. She channels them through her sword, mostly, but she makes sure to get in some swipes with her claws. It wouldn't do to be disarmed.

Her style isn't fully formed yet, really; she fights better than a peasant conscript, but she's no hero. She tries for speed and overwhelming aggression, and gets some of it. She is fast, and when she hits she hits hard, but her accuracy really could use work. (That's not to say she misses the dummy. But Theodora's dueled her. Her accuracy could use work.)

Casting spells with an attack seems confusing. How does one effectively measure the angle of a stab, or how hard to BONK someone on their head(s), if half or more of the wounding only happens afterwards? Theodora supposes it might be like wielding poisoned blades, where the point is mostly to break the skin. This isn't an association that improves her opinion, really.

But then, accuracy must be the whole ball game under that paradigm. Swinging a miss for every other hit is exhausting even before you add dragon spellcraft to your plate. The answer to this, after about ten minutes of dummying, is obvious; strapping on her studded leather from the shed, she yells at the baby mage:

"Take me down in the next ten seconds or I'll go commit some crimes!"

Her shout conveniently covers the sound of the kobolds' approach, and the snickering from a nearby bush is close enough to rustling that it doesn't register.

Masha takes this in stride; it's not the first time Theodora has done something like this. She hits her with a flare of dazzling light, it's cantrip-cheap and hopefully it'll distract her long enough that Masha can sweep her legs-

the light glints off metal in the bushes. There is not supposed to be metal in the bushes.

She doesn't follow up with a leg sweep. She follows up with a wave of even brighter light, into the bushes, that can't decide what color it is. It's red, it's green, it's purple, changing a thousand times a second but always too bright, overwhelming the senses. Worse, for the dim gloaming light of the evening. Almost anyone who takes it straight in their eyes is going to be having a wretched time of the next few moments, whether they spend it blinking, puking, or twitching on the floor.

[FLASH]

There are several bushy thuds and then a lot of loud Draconic swearing that Masha is likely to understand. The law of large numbers suggests that seven kobolds that boil out immediately must have variously had their eyes closed, been behind trees, or possess uncanny wisdom. One drags a seizing compatriot out by their halberd, which they won't relinquish. The rest begin throwing little spears at Masha and insulting her!

That spell always feels like somebody took white-hot charcoal and smeared it in a line across Theodora's eyes. She turns to keep Masha visible in the peripheral, planning to let her topple her if Masha goes for it quickly, but the move never comes. And then it's lizard time, apparently! She crosses out in front of the younger girl and takes a pitter-patter of spears to her armored midsection, smacking one or two of the spears out of the air before they can endanger her head or her buddy. She thinks she can see more dangerous weapons in kobold belt-loops, but there's no point in approaching if they're just going to run out spears in a moment or two.

The hot yellow streak across her vision isn't getting as much in the way as it could; even so, it's perfect for making Theodora miss the yellowish blur, approximately kobold-sized but low-to-the-ground, that's silently dashing around the perimeter of the yard towards the house.

(Which isn't to say that's the only kobold making that maneuver. Just the only one doing it within Theodora's line of sight.)

Masha doesn't miss it, but she's kind of busy thwacking kobolds as nonlethally as she can manage. "Téa, some of them are getting inside - go protect Shandra! I can take these!"

She kicks one in the face, demonstratively. He squeals and goes down.

"Oh!" She's off and running before the kobold she was about to stab knows what hasn't hit him. Theodora catches sight of the bogie, who looks like a smear of watercolor paint lunging from the base of one tree to another. The effect settles intermittently, the creature's outline sloshing like milk until the marrow-colored kobold pauses to step around a branch pile or root.

Theodora's arm itches to grab a kobold-size spear and just chuck it at the lizard, but she races on a straighter vector towards the house, instead. Pelting full out across the clearing on human legs gets her there faster than the kobold could possibly manage.

Unfortunately, the kobold also knows this, which is why it vanishes into the woods. Now Theodora has to cover two doors and the cellar, besides any possibilities that count as 'an entrance!' to a kobold. There's magic at play as well, so she has no reason to think the enemy can't go invisible, teleport a way in, or start lobbing ordinance from beyond the treeline. So, she quickly concludes, the best option left is just to warn—

THUNK

When Theodora whips the door open, Shandra is nowhere in sight. But Drogan, dread mage, is keeled over jaw-first, floorboards soaking up the blood he's losing. The assassin-kobold cracks a sallow grin at her from the place of pride on Drogan's back, short sword planted in him like a flag. The vase that Theodora sends flying its way has it leaping impressively at the ceiling, kicking off of a chandelier and into the rafters. Theodora wheels about and shouts for Masha out of the door, and, sword drawn, dashes over the the closet where they keep a potion or two handy. They're meant for kitchen accidents and scrapes rather than whatever just got the strongest wizard I know, end quote, but...

Shandra may not be in sight, but she isn't exactly hiding under the bed. Vines have burst through the floorboards and they're doing their damnedest to strangle the life out of everything in the room with scales.

Some things with scales are easier to strangle than others! Others, like the small squad skirting around the area of effect towards the basement. The basement nobody's allowed to go into. That may or may not have dangerous magic in it. Magic, it has been intimated, that could kill everything in a radius not smaller than the entire house.