Launch a ball of fire at the enemy leader.
From Thread 1
Fwoosh!
A gout of flame speeds across the distance between you and strikes the merlurn leading the charge right in the chest. He yells in pain as your god's fire engulfs his burly, dark-skinned frame, and falls to the ground, rolling desperately to try and put it out; a number of his followers, unable to stop their motion down the slope, trip over him. Baring your sharp teeth in a victorious grin, you ready another-
Sploosh!
A heavy load of water has soaked you from head to toe: spinning on the spot, you see another, smaller group of merlurn closing in behind you, one of them still holding a now-empty bucket. Your heart sinks; so long as you're so thoroughly wet, you can't use your magic! You draw your sword and crouch instinctively into a battle-ready stance, but you know it's too late. Only the pride of the Rhann makes you fight on in this losing battle, caught between a hammer and anvil that even your savage strength cannot withstand. You see some of your companions fall and others captured, until you yourself feel a heavy blow across the back of your head and everything goes black.
What are they going to do with you?
