The elven sorceress breathed a sigh of relief.  She had been on the verge of panic before but this new adventurer's arrival shifted the odds from being impossible to only fairly likely that she'd end up being captured, defiled and slaughtered.  A quick appraisal at a glance, all she could afford given that two of the goblins were headed towards her, proved somewhat optimistic.  The new arrival had all the signs of a hedge knight.  From her experience, hedge knights were usually far more taken with nobility and morality then their highborn kin.  The smiling face on the face-plate seemed rather strange and perhaps a bit obscene.  Why that was painted there was a question she would have to ask if she survived this ambush.

During that glance, the two goblins raced towards Assallya but for the first time she felt a bit more confidant.  She was atop her vardo and the easiest way for the goblins to clamor up was to climb the horse which was currently bent awkwardly over and twitching strangely as its crushed mind attempted to make its body gallop.  It would take them a moment, Assallya reasoned, to figure out that's what the brass rails on either side of the wagon were for.

In the meantime she had to make another decision.  There were three groups to act against.  She could help Varrock, at a calculated risk to herself, and thus convince him she was a friend or she could defend herself.  Alternatively, she could help the orcs she'd summoned who were likely to be annihilated by that massive goblin creature in short order.  She knew what to do and it certainly wasn't helping her new companion.  She couldn't be sure her chosen spell might not affect him too.

One good thing was that the goblins seemed to have the idea of taking her alive.  That afforded her some leeway in her actions.  She turned her attention to the grand melee with the orcs and the goblins.  Her ice blue eyes, glittered as she extended her ebony painted fingernails at them.  Fingers twisted and gesticulated; magical words slid off her tongue, defying the ability of the mind to comprehend.  The spell of sleep slipped over her ebony painted lips and rolled gently down the sides of the wagon, across the ground like a fog, licking at the trunks of trees, curling about their roots until they gathered around the ankles of the goblins and orcs.  Seeking the weakest of the combatants the magic took hold and a half score of their number found their movements growing languid, their eyelids drooping and then they found themselves falling to the forest floor.

"By Myrkul's shriveled black balls," she exclaimed emphatically as her slender fingers reached out and wrapped about her light crossbow while trying to figure out where those two goblins beneath her might have moved while she was casting.