The assembled forces pushed forwards, the colours of blades flashing as they dispatched foes all around them. We were gaining ground slowly and our objective was in sight. Gasping, Taranae swung her staff at yet another enemy as she decapitated him cleanly. The body fell to the floor as the head spun off towards her rear and she grimly stepped over the fallen remains, twirling her staff around her in a flurry of movement. She made sure that anyone who came near met hr blade first; she would ask questions later. The forces under her command had seen the change in her and knew when to steer clear and right now, she was a blur; a maelstrom of death to anyone and anything that came into range. Looking up, her eyes settled on the enemy commander and she struggled onward toward his position.

Suddenly, he gestured and a dozen or more transports dropped from the clouds, landing near him and spilling out more troops. She cursed silently. Even she knew that the tide had turned again and now it would be themselves who were fighting for survival. As the enemy pressed forwards, allies fell around her to the hail of artillery that fired towards them. She swiftly deflected a few bolts with her staff then turned to order the retreat. She hoped they had bought enough time for the secondary attack.

Keeping her staff swinging furiously, she began to move backwards, still cutting down anyone that dare challenge her and made her way slowly back to the ship. They had been so close and Pravus was almost in their grasp, but the turn of battle had caught them unawares and it was better to live to fight another day than to die for nothing.