The sickening, wet crunch of lances meeting flesh and bone, human war-cries and monstrous roars filled the air as Isak led his men into the beasts, hacking left and right with the fury of a madman. Abandoning all pretence at grace, Isak slashed and stabbed with mechanical precision, snarling with rage. The buzz of magic filled his mind as the lumbering horrors threw themselves at the knights with an animal hunger.

Though attacked on three sides, the trolls ignored the numbers piled against them and swung their huge arms tirelessly, crushing and breaking horses and soldiers alike. As each troll fell, another rushed forward to take its place in the front line, fearless and frenzied. Isak didn't care, he wanted them to come. Unaware of his comrades, Isak drove deeper into the creatures. His rage consumed everything, dulled the pain, cowed fear and desperation – he didn't even notice the blows that rocked him in his saddle.

With the ecstasy of hatred came the release he craved so desperately. His arms filled with warmth, the sharp tang of magic was acidic in his throat. Tentative flickers of lightning lit up the mud-spattered grey hides clustering around him and lashed forward to tear into them. Fingers of spitting fire worked their way into the troll's throat and nose, stabbing down through the troll's small ears and reaching through to its thick spine. Lifting it up in his sorcerous grip, Isak roared with laughter, then threw the dead body into the trolls' ranks.

Before he could focus on the next victim, a massive weight slammed into his side as a fist punched him from his saddle. Distantly he felt the snap of ribs breaking, but still his fury eclipsed all. Isak rolled as he hit the ground and came up with Eolis ready to take out the first enemy in range. Leaving the blade buried in its skull, Isak stretched

his arms out wide and embraced the clamouring energies that coursed through him.

A nimbus of bright white light enveloped his body. Whipping sparks danced over his armour and arced from one fist to the other. He rose up on an effusion of wrath. The air shimmered and wavered as he held the rampant magic tight in his hands, then unleashed the spitting bursts of light on his enemies.

With the sparks and screams fell a haze of rain. He heard someone calling out, a name, but didn't know if it was his own. He didn't care. That part of him that had a name was hidden – now, he was an avatar of death, glorying in the majesty of his work. Words came unbidden to his lips, gathering those sparks and raindrops together. He pulled Eolis from the dead thing impaled upon it and cut it through the glittering swirl he'd created. It became a storm of golden shards of glass, spinning faster and faster, until he threw it forward to slice and ruin.

As the magic drained from his body, Isak felt something else ahead, something growing with ferocious speed and burning with the same anger he felt. The air grew hot around him and dirty grey wisps of smoke appeared from the churned ground. A shape, orange and white, burst into life on the ground, a creature of flame bound by hatred. A memory forced its way into his thoughts: a Chalebrat. He was facing a fire elemental. As Isak gasped, he felt scorching heat run down his throat. He staggered back, the fringes of his cloak alight, and held his shield high to protect his exposed eyes as swirling hot trails danced in the air and a crushing pain pressed in on his skull.

He struck out – and hit nothing. A long arm of fire swept him off his feet, but again Isak hit nothing. The blade trembled in his hand, frustrated. Though unstained by the flames it cut through, Eolis could find nothing to destroy. In the searing heat Isak cowered back, away from the legion of fiery pinpricks that razed his skin.

Now he felt the Chalebrat looming over him, insubstantial, but deadly, closing for the kill. He felt a shadow pass over his body and the light dimmed – only a little, but enough to relieve the pain for a moment or two. He tensed every muscle in his body and tightened his grip on Eolis, readying himself for his one chance to survive-

A terrific blast of rushing air screamed down towards Isak, followed immediately by the earth-shaking thump of a massive weight hitting the ground. Isak was jerked up into the air by the impact, and as he dropped back down, he realised the intense heat had faded to nothing.

Cool air rushed in around him as he lay crumpled, face-down on the muddy ground, the rain spattering on his armour. A moment of calm descended. The bitter scent of burnt flesh drifted to Isak's nose, stirring brief panic as he wondered whether it was his own. He listened to the raindrops falling…

… until a thunderous roar broke the quiet, a bellow so loud that Isak recoiled from the sheer force of the sound, scrambling to his feet to face this new monster. As he did, a huge head snapped forward towards him. Isak ducked, dropping down to one knee, and heard the terrifying crunch of huge jaws. He got to his feet and as the dragon raised its head and shook the troll in its mouth before tearing it in two, he recognised Genedel.

The deceptive shadows of its underground lair had not fully prepared Isak for what now lay before him: a long serpentine body covered in shimmering, near-translucent scales, a glittering kaleidoscope of magic and light that married a shocking beauty to awesome, lethal power. The dragon's speed was phenomenal as it ripped into the trolls, biting, spearing with its horns, raking with wicked talons and chopping left and right with its axe-like tail.

Even the tough hides of the trolls were no match for this dazzling storm of claws, horns and teeth, and at that moment, Isak recognised the vision in Aryn Bwr's mind when he shaped Siulents. This was the image he wanted others to see.

From a saddle on the dragon's back slid the Lord of the Farlan, as graceful as a dancer moving through familiar steps, before the crackling edge of his sword sliced through the bodies around him. On his head was an old crested helm that Isak had never seen before, but that was far from the greatest difference. Lord Bahl moved without hesitation, blending magic and devastating strength with a skill that -Made Isak shiver at the enormous gulf between them.

Bahl struck and drew back, struck again as a grey barrier appeared to deflect a swinging fist. Another kicked out and Bahl simply stepped up sideways, turning his body horizontal in the air before pushing off the chest of another troll and launching himself through the body of the one that had kicked at him. Isak gasped as he felt the massive burst of magic from Bahl's enchanted armour. The Lord's body seemed to fade into insubstantiality as it passed through the troll, only to return to normal as Bahl turned to hack into its spine. He spun in the air as another reached for him, stepped up on to a dead body and

grabbed the next with his free hand, swinging his blade around to slash the troll's throat.

Under such an assault, and penned in on three sides by the heartened knights, the trolls could face no more. Growls of panic and fear rang out on all sides as they turned, like a startled herd of bison, and fled the field. Those few who lingered in confusion were mown down by the rejuvenated soldiers. Genedel gave a triumphant bellow. With one great beat of its wings it took to the air, spitting gouts of flame down on the fleeing creatures, while the Ghosts cheered the dragon on.

'General, enemy to your rear,' shouted Bahl as he stood on a grey corpse and scanned the field. 'Our infantry are not close enough; we'll be boxed in.'

'Herald,' cried the general. Isak followed the voice to see the general, battered and bloody, with his herald cowering behind him. The general pushed up his visor and pulled the boy round to face him. 'Sound infantry advance to flank.'