It was not long until Garalt and his team reached the front lines of the battle.  Nearby, there had once been a small farm house, where once someone took advantage of the rich farmland that lay in the valleys of Ikros.  Now all that stood was a shell of a stone house, burnt down years ago.  As Garalt entered into the more cleared area that surrounded the ruins, he was able to see clearly the first encounter the troops of Ikros had with the horde.  The undead minions of Zakar were hitting the defenders hard, but thanks to the spells that Garn were casting, the men seemed to be holding their own quite well.  A wall of shields, axes and spears were what awaited the undead, and it was holding back the tide quite well.  However, something deep within the forces of Zakar shocked Garalt.

    There, running behind the horde, casting spells left and right, were what looked to be students of the F'Rekkah Atoll.  Garalt never imagined Zakar using them, and it gave a much more real aspect to the battle.  No longer were they fighting the undead, without any thoughts as to destroying them, but rather they were fighting real living flesh and blood.  Souls on both sides were now fighting, and risking everything.  But the presence of those students meant another problem as well.  Students of the Atoll were mage knights, and could do real damage to the Ikros forces.  But Garalt did not see them casting any sort of offensive attack.

    Instead they seemed to be acting more in a supporting role.  Every time one of the students cast a spell, one of the undead seemed to become a little stronger.  These students must not have had much training yet, Zakar must have been desperate for troops.  That idea gave Garalt a small bit of comfort.  The soldiers of Ikros were lined up in a column three deep.  Painfully too few to fight on for the long term.  But the rows of archers behind them could give them support.  Volley after volley was thrown upon Zakar's army, as arrows rained down as a mid-summer's rain.  However, arrows and crossbow bolts did little to the undead.  Arrows and sharp weapons only served to cut the bones of the skeletal warriors, and they in turn could just put themselves back together.  If only they had prepared flaming arrows, Garalt thought.  Fire would most certainly destroy them.

    As he passed behind the ruined farmhouse, and out of view of the troops, Garalt had one last glance at the defenders.  They were fighting hard, and true, and were holding back the undead warriors.  The undead were beginning to pile up, mindlessly walking forward, though there was no room to advance.  The longer they could hold them back, the better, but how long could they hold out?