"Not out of this yet," she answered, with half a smile. Iseldis wasn't sure she'd ever get [i]used[/i] to life or death situations, but with Roland they were starting to become a little more manageable. And she was done holding back in this one.

The two dark elves before her were infuriated at the death of the third. No doubt with how small their numbers were, the death of any of their own hit them hard. They spaced themselves poorly, too close to one another, and Iseldis saw her chance. Twirling her staff, she channeled a strong spell through it, one end of her weapon glowing bright white. With a spin, she hurled the magic at the elves, a silver crescent of deadly magic flying at them. The closer of the two took more than half of it, his armor rent asunder, and he collapsed, a smoking husk of steel. The other was able to dive out of the way, but still caught enough in his left shoulder to damage him.

Iseldis felt a heavy drain on her body immediately after the spell ran its course, enough that she staggered forward a half step, but she caught herself and tried to blink away the fatigue. [i]Just a little more to go,[/i] she told herself.

"Go," she urged Roland. "I'll take him from the side." Two on one, they'd be able to manage this last dark elf.

Staff in hand, Iseldis flanked around to the right, taking a circuitous route through the organizational mess that was this room. She allowed Roland to engage first before she started working her way in, eyes locked on the foe, searching for the best moment to strike. She didn't notice until it was too late that she'd set herself up for the very same thing.

A spell hit her from above and behind, foul and rank magic that washed over her in a wave. Instinctively she thought to put up a magical barrier in defense, but found her own magic cut off from her. She couldn't seem to draw a breath, or cry out to draw Roland's attention back. A sinewy substance that she recognized as webbing coiled around her throat, suddenly tugging her back several steps and just about pulling her feet off the ground.

The witch hung from the shadows above, latched onto the ceiling with her spidery legs, holding the thread that choked Iseldis. She peered down with pure hatred. "Ungrateful princess," she hissed. "Stop struggling, or I'll gladly gut you, the Master's orders be damned."

Iseldis only barely heard the words, focused instead on cutting herself free. Her staff had enough magic in it to do the trick, and with a swipe above her head she could finally gasp in a breath. She swung it again, catching the witch by surprise, and cracking her jaw. She fell roughly to the ground, and Iseldis tried to press her advantage while she had it with multiple downward strikes of her staff. She landed several hard blows, but took one swing too many.

The witch caught her staff, stopping it cold, and one of the spidery legs struck her across the face. Iseldis stumbled sideways, and suddenly the witch was on her feet again. Attacks flew at her, more than a few battering through her tired defenses, each one driving her away from where she'd lost sight of Roland. A powerful uppercut tossed her guard high and left her arms aching, and then a strong blast of offensive magic collided with her torso.

Iseldis was thrown back against the wall behind her, the sight of the room and the witch swimming before her. She felt herself sinking, losing strength, losing control. The witch had every opportunity to finish her off, but true to her word, it seemed she had other orders. Iseldis's staff slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground.

[i]I can't... give up now... come on...[/i]

But it was a matter of endurance, not desire, and no amount of her desire to help Roland could keep Iseldis from crumpling to the ground on her side. The witch had already turned to fight Roland, not risking taunting words this time. It was all Iseldis could do to simply breathe, and try to get the strength to stand back while she could still make a difference.
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