This might, Camilla realized, have been a mistake. Even with the disruption Cydric was causing, the press of tree-kin was tremendous. The Grafin did well enough with her axe, hewing the beasts with great cuts that send limbs flying and splintered trunk to sappy pulp, but her own light rapier proved to be all but useless. The best she could do was to deflect the branches that would otherwise have blindsided the axe wielding noblewoman. Nor, unfortunately, was it possible to retreat to the next doorway, a heavy wooden affair that would have made a better defensive position, as the tree kin were already on the landing in number enough to begin to flank. A branch cracked against Camilla's wrist and she responded with a back hand cut which was as useless as her other strikes had been. The light flickered and danced and she glanced above her to see one of the smaller treekin crouching atop the wrought iron chandelier. It leaped at Camilla like a missle leaves fluttering as it came. The Tilean sellsword dropped her blade and caught the thing with both hands, redirecting it over the splintered railing and down into the malestrom of flaming trees below.

"Run!" Cammilla shouted at the Grafin and then leaped upwards, catching a torch sconce and vaulting up onto the chandelier landing with both feet as close as she could to the central pilus. The ancient plaster above gave way and the wrought iron ring plunged down into the spot the Grafin had just vacated with a shower of powder and a crash like the world ending. Camilla rode it down, leaping clear at the last moment and then snatching for her sword. One of the flailing limbs caught her a glancing blow and sent her staggering backwards. She bounced off the wall and tumbled over the mass of half inanimate wood and vines. Camilla tried to scramble backwards, but one of the treekin was already rearing above her like a wooden scorpion, wickedly sharp arms ready to strike down through her belly. The Grafin of Donkeubruk unceremoniously grabbed Camillia by a handful of curly hair and yanked her back through the door a heart beat before the creature struck, its arms driving into the floor hard enough to splinter both flooring and limbs.

"Come and get it ye overgrown kindlin!" a dwarven voice shouted as Thor and Gunir, having finally cleared the wall, charged in to Cydric aid. The dwarves came on with a hatred and glee that Camilla had only seen in the settling of grudges, their axes hewed the creatures down like so many corn stalks, sending sap and splintered wood flying in all directions. Nor, it seemed, were the dwarves put off by the fact that most of their oppponents were now on fire. They hacked on, beards and clothing smoking as they pressed home their attack. It wouldn't have been exactly accurate to say that the attack broke the dryads. They neither fled nor panicked but the seemed to realize that the game was up. Between one heartbeat and the next glowing eyes and thrashing timber became dead and inert firewood.

"Oh eye, run awae ye damned Elgi marrionetes!" Gunir yelled, clearly arrived. Camilla, aching and bruised sagged gratefully against the wall whispered a quiet prayer of thanks to Myrmidida.