Into existance a small shimmering gateway comes, clearly showing the centre of the trolloc camp, and most importantly the panicked faces of the Trollocs. Arel quickly jumps through, blasting fire from his hands and dealing damage to all around. Many tents catch fire, flames licking at the heavens, and the screams of trollocs from inside can be heard. Already, many trollocs are coming from all over the camp, weapons ready. Beads of sweat begin to appear on Kael's face. He is holding much of the Power, too much, probably than he should be for so long. The chaos of the uncleaned source begins to tear at his mind, and his strength begins to fade.

Seeing this, Ailgar and Julort jump through the gateway, the latter having to duck to make it through. Kael trys to keep it open, wants to keep it open. He wants to make it bigger, larger, he wants to fill himself with more and more of the Power, letting its unclean, primordial power wash over him, enveloping his every pore. He feels like he is bathing in the swamps of Tear, but swamps infused with a pure essence of escacsy. Arel is about to step back into the gateway as was the plan, when Kael finally frees himself of the Power, letting it go. In its wrath he has forgotten what was going on, and it took much of his remaining strength to let go of the One Power. He collapses to the ground

The gateway winks out of existance behind the heroes as Ailron and Julort draw and ready weapons, eyes searching for the Myrdraal. Arel stares at the place where the gateway had just been, realization of how close he had been to jumping into the its last moments, it closing around him. He ponders opening another to get them all out. The Myrdraal didn't seem to be here.

The sound of its segemented armour first announced its presence as it came slowly out of the shadows from within one of the burning tents. The fires were coming closer on all sides. But the Trollocs didn't seem ready to let fate have them. They approached almost in unison with the dancing Power ignited flames. The fade slowly removed its cloak, casting it onto the flaming tents. The flames beneath it died, the cloak undamaged.

"So these are those that led that pitiful attack against the armies of the Great Lord. My soldiers would love to personally rip you to pieces and eat the delicate strips of meat" it hisses, advancing, oblivions to the flaming cloth around him. "But I believe that I will reserve the pleasure for myself. One of the perks of being born superior. Not only to them, but most definitely to you. Who should I take first, the filthy servant of the Dragon that channels the tainted Power of my Master? No, the warrior ogier shall be the first."

Drawing his black sword, he advances.

Kael has slipped farther into madness.