Talix awoke with a start. He tried to sit up but instantly fell back, when he tried again he threw up. Grabbing his head with both hands after wiping his mouth, he tried to take in his surroundings. It was disturbingly quiet, almost no noise registered other than the ringing in his head that throbbed with his pulse. His vision blured and the colours were washed out with a fuzzy bright light that seemed to lessen after focusing for a moment. Then increasing with every eye movement seemingly worse than before. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head. After a couple of minutes he pulled his hands away from his eyes and tried again. Seeing his gloves coated in his own blood from a gash on the hair line. He heard the distant clang of metal on metal. Talix struggled to his feet. Then he stood dead still. Finally taking in his surroundings, he noticed that he was in the centre of a blùd bath. In every direction was merciless death. The once lush green field was now slick in deep, deep red. There was faint movement dispersed through out the field. People looking for their brothers and sons. Others looking for their arms and entrails.

The clanging of metal grew ever louder as Talix's head cleared up. He found his Helmut and spear. His short sword hadn't fallen from his side in the tumble. So with a staggering clumsy, he hopped between the strewn out corpses up towards the crest of a hillock, trying not to disturb those at grizzly rest. Once he reached the top, his eyes were forced wider and his jaw fell.

For leagues upon leagues. All he saw was red death. Pockets of fighting still going on here and there between the few left. But all the eye could see was a red blanket across the land. Scorched paths of ruin from Mages destructive magics, spread out unevenly throughout the land scape. One Mage still fighting twenty or so Rams, battle exhausted beyond belief. But still deftly avoiding the wild swings of his attackers with a cat like agility, only expending energy up until the very last instant before melting out of the way and counter striking with perfect precision and speed. No longer using the massive destruction magics. But using more personal, single strike, short burst attacks. The huge amount of power that gets channeled through the body to cause such destruction takes its toll on the medium. In this case, that medium was Ava'Lak. Instead of expending his energy to clear paths and cause massive areas of damage. He danced. He danced a beautiful spinning dance that resulted in his partners dropping to the earth one by one. With fist sized holes in their backs and chests and faces. He spun and landed a physical blow to his attackers exposed body with a flash of colored light. Spin, flash, dodge, slide, flash, jump, spin, flash, flash. Each burst of light slowed his dance partner. But eventually they always fell. Until the next dance partner chose to try his luck. But eventually they all fell. But how much longer could the Mage keep it up? Surely he was sustaining himself with some Magics, but even they take a toll on oneself after long.

Picking up his spear off the ground from where he dropped it in his stupified state. He set off to the closest battle he could see. When he arrived he took cover behind the corpse of a huge Kar'Nul Alpha Ram. For there was ample size difference to hide him. He noticed that the battle he had come across involved the Paladin he had been speaking to before the charge of Rams. Surrounded on all sides by Kar'Nul Chargers. Six of them, making the hulking figure of the Paladin look like the runt in a litter of battle torn and disheveled hounds. No weapon. Armour hanging off in parts. Exposing his skin. His right arm hung low at his side, completely devoid of any armour, completley exposing it to the elements. His breathing was ragged and raspy. Blùd fell from his naked finger tips. Mixed with the sweat it seemed to stream off them. Hunched over but still standing. Vigilant, but weary. His Grim Warg was occupied with a Kar'Nul Charger all of his own to contend with. The Paladin was all alone.

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A Kar'Nul from behind stepped to charge. The Paladin spun before the foot fell and the weight was distributed. Forcing the Charger to swing his weapon early while his weight was un balanced. The Paladin caught the wrist in the downward motion of the attack. Pushed away. Then twisted his wrist while pulling backwards and down. Sending the Charger first backwards and then flying fowards while being disarmed. Forcing the Charger to fall face first on his own blade that had been embedded hilt first in to the earth. Five to go.

Two of them tried to attack at the same time. The first wielding a spear, the other weilding a crude sword that looked like it had been torn from the furnace instead of forged in one. The spear tip came whistling by the ear of the Paladin while he slipped the attack and ducked under the blow. Grabbing the spear and pulling his attacker with it, sending him sprawling in to the ground. In the same motion he kept the spear tip thrusting at the second Charger. Who swung his sword and cut the spear, sending the tip straight up in the air. The Paladin swung the staff back handed and connected with the skull of the Charger who was getting back to his feet. Splintering the weapon on the thick bone of the Chargers skull. Then brought it back up forehand towards the other Charger. Only to have the staff reduced again, beyond use by another swing of the sword, forcing the Paladin to drop it. On the swords return swing, the Paladin had no choice but to use his forearm to take the impact of the attack that would have cleaved a cow in half without catching on the hide or bone. Tearing off the armour on his left arm up to the shoulder, and breaking the bones in several places despite all the wards the Paladin had in place. However, no matter how broken the Paladin was he wasnt going to stop; not until fighting was no longer an option. Just then, as the Charger was setting his feet and powering up for a killing blow. A flash caught the Paladins eye. With his last ounce of strength, he murmured something under his breath. A redirection spell perhaps? Then quick as a flash, just when the Charger had his arms above his huge horned head, bringing down the final blow that would seal the fate of the Paladin and the southern realms. The Paladin balled up his fist and launched a hard jab right at the beast's nose. Shattering it in a spray of blùd and cartilage. Stunning the Charger for a precious second. While the Paladin reached back and caught the spear head that was sent flying with the first swing of the deadly sword. Catching it perfectly in his hand, he sent another jab motion towards the beasts face. This time, lodging the spear head deep within the thick neck of the Charger. Then as the Charger fell to his knees, the Paladin caught the sword that was raised over his head and brought it down hard and fast on the neck of the unconcious Charger he knocked out earlier. The only sound was a short gurgle, the Charger hitting the ground, and the sound of heavy iron being embedded in the earth as if the neck wasnt even there. Three to go. The last three and the battle would be over.

The Paladin straightened his back and held the warped sword limply in his right hand, the one that hung dead at his side, he couldn't feel the steel in his grip but he knew it was there. Holding his shattered left arm close to his chest, he whipped his head around to find the last three remaining Chargers. But found only two. They raised their weapons and charged. When the Paladin brought up his weapon to ready himself for them, he heard a squelch behind him. Too late. He heard it, he felt it, he knew it. His sword hit the ground before the arm holding on to it did. Thats when the pain became too much and the Paladin fell to his knees. With one Kar'Nul behind him and two infront of him. Weapons at the ready. Finally they had won. The battle was theirs. The gateway to the southern realms had been broken and now nothing could stop them from taking the rest at will. It was over.