The tip of Ayse staff crackled, sparked, and glowed. With the Skaven bearing down on them there was little reason to hold the flames in anymore. The tip of her staff popped in a whirl of ash and cinders as a bolt of fire raced out towards the din and the one unlucky target she'd picked out. It was hard to do much more. 

If she tried a stream of flame then she'd probably end up roasting most of Marianne's bugs. Too aggressive with her bolts? She might catch any one of their fighters with magic intended for another. Sylvia's near invisibility was just an excuse for friendly fire. She wanted to help the dwarves, but without a plan and without a way to show they weren't the enemy she was starting to regret it. Though, as she sent a another bolt out, she'd have more regrets in a moment.

One Skaven slipped through and drew close. Skaven may have been sloppy and craven, but they were also fantastic opportunity hunters. A distracted target like Ayse might as well put on a light-show set out signs. Racing towards her, with a hissing, gurgling, cry it clamped down on her arm with rotten teeth. The force of the blow and the shock of pain sent both tumbling to the ground. Still hanging on with its mouth the beastfolk fished out a dagger and prepared to deal a more fatal blow.

Then the air around the both of them exploded. The Skaven backpedaled wildly, its face replaced by the blackened bone of its skull, over and off the side of the bridge. Ayse struggled up, groaning, as blood slipped from the gnawed flesh of her arm. It was clear that she couldn't be as careful anymore. With the pain also fueling her flame she lashed out again, and again, and again...