Jarvan was busy healing a nearby soldier who had lost an arm when he saw the coloured fire go up into the air. Then he heard the roar, a distant rumble, like a mountain had just yawned and his insides froze. He knew exactly what was happening<br/><br/>" Oh Traako"<br/><br/>He looked to the soldiers and mages nearest to him. They had continued fighting, having not heard the roar. Abandoning the Elf that he was working on, he stood just in time to see a winged figure rise up from the rear and begin towards the battlefield. This battle was surely lost now, but he couldn't see anyone that could sound the retreat, they were all deeply engaged in the conflict. Seeing that this battle would soon come to a brutal and bloody conclusion, Jarvan steadied his nerves, conjured up the deadliest fire spell he could think of, concentrated, and let rip with multiple blasts of fire that were aimed directly at the approaching winged terror that would soon be reigning death down upon them.<br/><br/>