Snippet #938505

With a deadly determination and strength borne of pure fury, the great lamia tore a nearby bear rider free from his harness with more than enough speed for the dwarf to realize what was going on. With little more than a flick of his wrist, Shokunen disemboweled the nameless soldier with a wicked knife in front of his fellows. In seconds the entrails and guts that began to pour out solidified into black stone, and the dwarf's flesh and armored followed. The warrior prince heaved the now solid stone dwarf into a human mage that was haraasin his troops just behind the dwarven line. Just when he began to coil back for another attack, a heavy gust of air slammed into his back. Shokunen hissed and whipped around to find who had the audacity to strike him. For the first time he noticed that a majority of the enemy soldiers had, for the most part, made roughly a twenty-foot circle around the lamia. The only other combatant within was a flambouyantly dressed individual he recognized as General Fong Liu-Wen; The Gale Bringer.

The tip of his tail coiled aroud the heavy-lance of the fallen dwarf and brought it to his hands, as the petriyfying dagger was sheathed. Without a word, only a loud hiss that caused the nearby troops to step back in astonishment, Shokunen bounded forward. His leap spanned the meager space between them in seconds and brought the lance around for a powerful swipe to the midsection that would most assuredly cleave the wind general in twain. Of course, such an obvious move was a feint, and Shokunen immediately spun the long weapon in his hand to bring it down on Fong's head with enough force to splatter the human into the mud as little more than smear of blood, bones and all. Such a ploy seemed well thought out and executed, but once again: A feint. The real attack on the enemy general came when Shokunen's massive tail lashed forward from the ground with speed no man could match. Covered in mud from the rain-drenched earth as it was, it would've been nigh impossible to see it coming, much less hear it over the din of battle. The lamia hissed once more and intended to enwrap his prey within his snake-like coils, and begin applying pressure.

"Steak!" he shouted into the heavy rain, his voice amplified by magic. "Get out here!"

On top of the cliffs, most of the archers had been wounded or retreated at the advent of Fong's wind reversal. So too had the harpies begun to retreat back to the clifftops. Within moments though, the sound of the rain was drowned out once more by theloud hiss of several hundred arrows being launched towards the main body of the Civil army once more. The first archers had swapped places with their reserves, the new marksmen already prepared to fire upon the enemy. At the very top, perched upon the rocky outcroppings within the wipping rain, were the harpy-troops replacements; The nightmarians. Nearly one hundred of the insectoid men stood aligned, staring down on the battlefield with their pitch black eyes. Each ant nightmarian was roughly human in size, and could have passed for one if not for their antennae, exoskeleton plated claws and feet and the pincers just outside of their human mouths.

The largest, a red ant nightmarian, glanced back at Mercy. "You aren't going to partake in the fun?" The foremost of the group waved a hand, and the other magi followed suite. The air directly above the Civil army shimmered, and the enemey mages found themselves in quite a bind. In seconds the first screams from enemy rang out. An iron dwarf geomancer's arms exploded when he attempted to conjure an elemental, and the next was an elven wizard whose skin tore open with a thousand slices when she casted a force blades spell. The nightmarians had created a magic reversal zone over the caravan, causing any arcane magic to harm it's caster instead of the desired effect. This locked down the enemy magi, although Fong with his chi-based powers, Diloxi with her infernal might, and the Avaran brothers and all the other priests with their divine magic would be unaffected. But, that also included the shamans and druids of the Savage forces already engaging the enemy. Miralight's constructs were safe as well, for they had already been summoned, but the same could not be said if the halfling cast anymore. In the background, on the tops of the cliffs, archers and harpies as well as ground troops who fled through the tunnels were being healed by the lamian clerics and orcish priests.

---

Belsius and Melianth caught their general's permission to have free reign, and immediately broke off from the front to head towards the center of the army. All around the sounds of battle rang out in full force, and the Avaran's glanced at one another. Melianth wore a feral grin of bloodlust, while Belsius had a solemn mask of meloncholy on his face. The two split up, both heading for the northern half of the army, which was the side not protected by bear riders. Belsius was the first to arrive and his breath caught. The orcs and minotaurs were bowling over the front ranks and forcing back the edges of the shield bubble. Gnoll and lamia archers advancing just behind the Savage heavy troops bore down on those unfortunate enough to be behind the shieldsmen with heavy, stone-tipped arrows and shortbows for maximum impact at close range. A trio of sneaky little goblins--some kind of primal magic users by the looks of it--slipped in and out of invisibility, using tiny mithril dagger to slit hamstrings and take down the front lines for the larger enemy units to trample.

His mouth moved in silent prayer and Belsius leapt atop a nearby boulder and pointed his outstretched hands at the front lines. A wave of healing magic poured forth from his midnight skin and rejuvenated the shieldsmen and pikemen at the front lines. Their wounds closed and their spirits were revitalized, and the Civil ranks surged back against the oncoming tide of savagery. Melianth bounded past his brother with a roar of victory and leapt from the boulder, twin blades raised to strike and glowing with holy might. The younger dark elf crashed into a rather large minotaur and drove both daggers into its thick neck, and the weapons exploded with golden flames. The minotaur collapsed in a heap of burnt fur and muscle as Melianth was already dashing for his next victim. The displayed bolstered the Civil force's confidence, and Belsius smiled slightly before charging in for himself, shield and sword drawn.