"I feel somewhat useless," Drusilia mused. Her hair had once again been brushed out of the way once Godhand had moved beyond the effective range of the arrows. She couldn't afford to do anything else, for even now the symptoms of Mana Burn had come up once more. The queasiness of her stomach was near crippling, as she sat on a chair, unable to do much beyond point out targets.

Still, in focusing the fire of the few archers that Sergeant Verynna had allowed her, the tide of the battle was slowly shifting, from overwhelming to a manageable force. While the undead hammered upon the gates, the amount of magic in the air was near caustic to the Huntress, and forced a relapse of illness. She sipped at water, hoping to keep it down, but already a bucket sat nearby where she had purged the contents of her stomach.

Her bow lay against the wall beside her, forcing her to rest against it, and use it as a crude leaning stick. Her master would have thoroughly kicked her ass if he had seen her now. Closing her eyes she felt the nausea once more, rolling upon her in waves before she leaned over the bucket and retched, nothing coming out anymore. Her stomach muscles burned with the exertion, while nothing left her mouth.

The other guards merely looked on and fired on what they had agreed were most likely necromancers. The figures wore robes and seemed to be more animated than the zombies surrounding them, and so they had been killed, for if they weren't the necromancers of the army, surely they were the commanding officers. Drusilia had no time to confirm the targets, as she had watched these sessions of nausea come in faster waves.

Still she clutched her stone and forced her will into it desperately. It briefly glowed, before dying down once more, not charged yet. She needed to wait just a bit longer, and it would discharge and allow her the freedom to act, even if for a moment. Mumbling softly to herself she whispered in drow, “Xund, lu' ori'gato uns'aa g'jahall udossta muan...”