A mercenary corpse that had previously been laying face down near the fire with arrows between the chinks in his body armour slowly rose up to its feet with a groan. Unlike the other mercenaries around it, the walking corpse hung its shield arm lazily to one side while it drew a silver sword from its belt. At first, no one noticed the corpse with the arrows still sticking out of it as it shuffled towards one of the enemy crossbowmen. When it got within a few metres, some shouting could be heard for the mercenary to raise its shield and fall in again. None thought anything was particularly amiss until the corpse thrust its sword into the back of the crossbowman who was trying to reload. Ahnasha's gambit had paid off. With another shout, a couple of mercenaries around the undead thrall brought axes down upon it. The thrall put up a pitiful defence and was disabled to the point of uselessness. The confusion seemed to unnerve the lines. Now they had to look out in front of and behind themselves.

While the barrage against the ram team by the mages was devastating, it could not last forever. Several mercenaries lay dead or dying, but still they found numbers to replace those that had fallen. The ram marched on and reached the gate. The first thud against the gate carried a shock that could be felt up on the walkway. 

Vera's voice screamed out immediately in response to the impact "Darahil, the oil! Now!"

Before the ram team could register what was going on, Darahil flung a small fire spell down at the base of the gate. What followed was a blue and orange light that gave the entire chamber a bright hue. The carnage of the scene was inhabited by a series of pained screams as the ram team was exposed to the sudden conflagration. It was hard to listen to, even for the most jaded of the defenders, but it bought time and exposed the attackers as they dropped the ram and fell back.

Ahnasha's arrows, much like the other arrows that had made their way to the mage at the back of the cavern, seemed to bounce off despite their accuracy. With each hit, there was a tell-tale shimmer of white magic indicative of shield alteration. It was unknown how long it would last, but Ahnasha's arrows only seemed to succeed in breaking the mage's concentration as she flinched with the arrows. However, her frost spell did not require as much concentration, and the smoking pile of wood they had set was soon reduced to pitiful wisps.

Now that she was unoccupied, the mage began to march forward. One hand was raised in a ward to deflect oncoming threats, while the other hand was swatting away the mercenaries who were on the ram and were desperately running back. The expression of the mage was impossible to see behind her helmet's visor, but there was a demeanour of impatience about her as she stepped closer to the abandoned, burning ram. This time, she launched a whirling orb of cold magic at the oil fire. The orb expanded as it moved forward and extinguished the flames as if they were hit by a snowstorm. She pointed forward and barked an order for the shield wall to advance and pick up the ram again.

Darahil was watching on and grimaced as he saw the display of powerful magic. The entire defence on the walkway felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand on end as power gathered in both of Darahil's palms. Sparks of lighting jumped from his robe to the ground and between his fingers as he prepared a spell while looking firmly at the enemy mage. This would not be stopped by a mere shield spell.

It was then that Ahnasha could spot the second crossbowman lining up his next shot. As if he could pick another target, Darahil was exposed and glowing with power.