While Damon happily farmed for skills and buffs, his shadow clone darting among the ice orcs like a ravenous ghost, the rest of the group was in full survival mode. The snowstorm howled louder, a swirling vortex of wind and ice that bit through even the thickest armor.
Sylvara's ice sword danced in the whiteout, but she was panting now, her breath ragged. The constant hail of arrows and frost spikes from the enemy lines was taking a toll. Even the strongest of the Frozen Throne's elites were struggling to keep up.
Only Sylvara and Nevin had managed to close in and get on the other side of the enemy line, where they faced multiple orcs at the same time, getting utterly crushed.
It was only thanks to Mira coordinating with Sylvara that she was able to clear a few and get the upper hand. A few clan members supported Nevin, and he, too, eventually managed to get the upper hand.
