Tumbor’s axe sliced through the first few living corpses as if cutting through water, such was the force and ferocity in which he swung it. There decapitated bodies slumping to floor as their arcane lifeforce expelled from them. The air hung with a stench of putrid, rotten flesh, making it almost impossible to endure, but on Tumbor swung.
More fell to the devastating accuracy of Fraevon’s arrows. A single shot, clean to the head, puncturing the skull and into the brain. Not a single arrow wasted.
Jax slammed hard into the melee along side the dwarf, his blade proving to be just as effective in parting their adversaries of limbs and heads.
“I wasn’t expecting so many,” he said as the weight of numbers began pushing them backwards.
“Bring ’em on, all of them!” screamed the dwarf, his axe taking down another two with his next swing.
“May I?” asked Rohlen, pointing his staff, glowing with magical energy, at the masses.
“Be my guest,” replied Jax moving to one side.
As he did so the air was suddenly full of shards of magical energy, each one a perfect representation of Fraevon’s arrows. Momentarily they spun where they were, before each one stopped to point at an individual target. Then, with lightening speed they struck, sending more to the body littered floor.