Fraevon cut a worried figure as his quiver began to run dry. Though he was perfectly adept with his long elven crafted sword, he felt more comfortable dispatching his enemy from afar.
Jax too looked increasing concerned as the number of greenskins hacking at him and his mount seemed to be growing by the second. It was only by the power of Yulien’s magic that he was able to remain mounted and avoid being lost under a sea of green.
Tumbor on the other hand was fairing better, his dwarven fury and battle axe cutting swathes through the advancing horde. There was something almost poetic in the way it arced through the air, blood and gore combining with the pouring rain, before then dropping fatally into its next victim. For those that may have observed the dwarf, it was the first time he appeared truly happy when not eating.
Yulien looked to her brother fleetingly, enough for him to realise that the protection she was gifting Jax would soon wain. He looked at Fraevon who was now engaging the goblin in melee, and knew things had become desperate. Slowly he began to recite some arcane incantation as he brought both hands purposefully up from beside him to a point just above his waist.
The goblin horde began to scream in terror as the ground shook and splintered. Jets of flame and molten lava sprayed up from the depths of the earth, showering everyone and everything without discrimination. The smell of burnt flesh was almost unbearable, forcing both Jax and Fraevon to hold their breath as each cut a retreat towards the twins.
Tumbor smiled and inhaled deeply.
“Argh, there’s no sweeter smell than char-grilled greenskins,” he said, maliciously hacking down those not affected by Rohlen’s magic.