Vlad was furious. The Kislevite had his sword drawn and now they had a quite clear drop upon their foes. He gave his sword a few experimental waves, and licked it childishly as if in a theatre production. He was preparing to cast another spell, perhaps another ice wall... but spikey so as to impale his foe, yes! It would go in from below, and out the other side through their face. 

It was not long after this thought that the beastmen emerged. "Bloody hell...." he muttered, his train of thoughts derailed by the metaphorical equivalent of a volcanoe spontaneously appearing. In the North, Beastmen were a rarity. Northmen were the servants of Chaos there, but when Beastmen did come over it was often because a plan was devised with the aid of the Norsca folk. But here... well there was no real explanation save for a Chaos cult. They were fighting bloody chaos cultists who had called upon their furry friends to raise hell. It explained the winds of magic being powerful here, and the sadistic thoughts he had moments ago.

"Sir!" he called out to Severo, standing up and breaking into a run. "Everyone! We have to bloody run, these bastards are a Chaos cult and we won't beat them, lets get out with our hides!" The shouts were frantic, but comprehensible enough. Their horses were hopefully not too far off and with good luck the enemy hadn't flanked them to eat the beasties beforehand. If they could make it to them, there was yet hope of survival of this business.