Anathema

Vladimars's hands trembled as he tried to recover from the impact of the spell. His attacker advanced on him quickly, drawing out a jagged blade as the mage was winded. 

"Hold on, Vlad!" Markos shouted and he leapt into the path of the cultist. He parried the cultist's blade and forced the man back. Around him was the clashing of steel and the crackling of magic with the loud cries of their attackers. His muscles burned from exertion but he forced himself to keep moving, to keep fighting.

Their numbers are dwindling but we're stripping this area barren with our heavy use of the Word.

He realized.

But there is no other way for us to deal with the onslaught with our small numbers. This needs to end soon.