With a thunderous crash, the Sand Skiff ran into the crag, tossing its inhabitants violently around. Effectively locking the slavers down Tyrael approaches. He had to give these men credit: despite the chaos caused his his snakes they were collectively able to dispatch the swarm without too much trouble. They suffered a few painful bites and one was poisoned, but they were still alive. They took cover behind the high walls of the skiff, preventing Tyrael from getting a clear shot at them. Zastriel could see them clearly from her sky-eye view, but Tyrael wouldn’t be able to shoot any of them. He could test his luck letting his great arrows punch through the wood, but he only had a few great arrows to use. He couldn’t afford to use all of them for such a small encounter.

And so for a few minutes things were quiet. The slavers were taking cover, switching to bows or crossbows and trying to spot Tyrael. As for Tyrae himself he put his bow away to approach the skiff as stealthy as he could, taking advantage of his cloaks drab colors to disguise himself as a mere stone when he was still. Soon however the second distraction would occur just in cue: the three women escaped. Zastriel took the keys off the Varbuk corpse and unlocked their chains. This allowed the women to scramble to freedom, causing one of the men to get up and try to secure them. He’s only manage to capture one of the women before Zastriel suddenly made a loud, terrifying demonic noise right behind his ear, getting everyone’s attention. Now thinking they’re being attacked by not just bandits but demons now, the men chose to abandon ship, either leaping off onto the sands or cowering behind cover waiting for further assault.

This was Tyrael’s chance. One of the men jumped out from the skiff right where Tyrael could reach him, and so the orcish warrior charged forward, club poised to crush his face. The warrior, despite his fears, was able to protect himself however, deflecting Tyrael’s strike with his blade. He frightfully shouted for help as Tyrael lashed out with his club again. This time however when their weapons struck, Tyrael’s club bursted into green flames, jumping from his club to the swordman’s clothes and lighting him on fire. The flames began to burn the man and his attire causing him to fall in panic, but these magical flames could not be put out by mundane means.

Two varuk warriors would join the battle against Tyrael while the last remaining swordsman stayed on deck trying and failing to find Zastriel as she harried him. The Varuks brandished terrifying battle axes as they approached Tyrael. In turn the orcish warrior... Turned to flee into the crags. Three-against one wasn’t in his favor and he had hoped the sword man would’ve been dead by now, but alas Tyrael’s green flame, as hot as it was, would burn away quickly and leave the swordman mostly alive. Wounded, but alive, and still able to fight. Tyrael needed to take advantage of the terrain now and try and pick off or wound the warriors one-by-one rather than to let them surround and overwhelm him.