The use of wards from the likes of Rossarm’s mages and Dominion soldiers did help to reduce casualties among Hjergir’s forces through their charge, but it was Sabine that truly gave them their opportunity. Even Meesei had not been sure what to expect when Sabine started to call forth her spell, but she ended up in almost as much awe as their soldiers on the ground. The Staff provided the power for the scale of the spell, true, but Sabine still had to be the one to give the magic shape and form. It was no spell that Meesei had taught her, but rather a combination of her own making. But, Meesei’s pride aside, she still had to focus on her own contributions. 

Meesei, from atop the tower, did not opt for a complex spell, nor even an original one. Indeed, the spell she charged was the same, straightforward torrent of lightning that she had attempted to use against the Daedric Titan. Though, this time, her target could not simply fly away. Mages like Sabine and Rossarm had ample ability to cast their spells over large groups, so Meesei decided to focus more concentrated power on specific targets. Daedric spellcasters were the greatest threat to their frontline, but from above, the sources of the spells were easy to see. Once she was surrounded in a storm of lightning, Meesei pushed both hands forward and, with them, sent a stream of lightning into the Daedric lines. She did not aim too close to the front, so as to avoid friendly fire. Her spell was like a knife, cutting a narrow path from mage to mage through the Daedra, with such power as to completely overwhelm any attempt at a ward or other defense. 

When the Twilights were knocked from the air, it removed a majority of the incoming spellfire and allowed their warriors to focus purely on the Daedra in front of them. And with the Thu’um empowering them, they hit the Daedric lines like a charging mammoth. Hjergir’s force consisted of skilled warriors, each one an experienced veteran. Granted, the same could be said of the immortal Daedra, but the Nords were not ones to squander the advantage they had been given. If one watched any individual duel, they would see Nordic blades, axes, and werewolf claws dancing with impossible speed around their Daedric opposition, the winds flowing around and guiding their weapons. The Senche were moving along the sides of the battlefield, climbing through rocks and other terrain that would normally be impossible for cavalry. Hjergir himself picked out the largest, most intimidating Dremora he could see and made him into his prey. While the Daedra was rearing back his cruel, barbed blade for a swing, Hjergir hooked his axe around the Dremora’s shield and yanked it downwards with such force that he nearly broke the Dremora’s hand before he could drop it. The Dremora was experienced enough to keep his swing on course for Hjergir’s neck, but his agility at the moment was nothing short of supernatural. He parried the flat of the Daedric blade with the edge of his shield, then slammed it into the Dremora’s head. From there, he reversed his grip on his axe and delivered a furious assault of repeated blows against the Daedra’s helmet with the spike on the axe’s head. Even Hjergir’s strength and speed could not pierce Daedric metal, but it hardly mattered. The sheer force of the blows were enough to kill the being within. 

However, despite the heavy casualties the Daedra were already facing, the tides of battle could still turn in an instant. From within the Daedric formation came a hidden threat, crawling around their feet. Spiderlings, the spawn of Spider Daedra, started to swarm into the allied forces. Their bites carried a form of magic paralysis that threatened to halt their charge in its tracks, and to give the Daedra a chance for a deadly counter-attack.